Mr Sweeney or (hiding and wood-haunting,
pronounced-the-same) Suibhne,
there's more than the Trinity of The Three Facts:
when you come to flaunting brass tacks
there's much more than twice as much as
just birth and copulation and death:
in between there's a pile and a heap
of consuming, excreting and sleep
in the (DO NOT REFUSE OR INHIBIT)
Birthday Gift of the Sacred Fart
which is Life or is Death and is bad or is good,
inhabited vacuum, escaped-from breath...
Beginning and end :
when you come to the bend
there's no way (through the wood)
no way to tell them apart.
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