Knocking, banging, clanging...
it comes when it wants
like a socially-awkward dinner guest
with a bouquet of wilting posies, a bottle of rancid cider
uninvited, nowhere to sit
with the rudeness of senility
it makes me laugh
inept, embarassing
inevitable
it bursts forth
there is no reason
there is no place
it has no place in this world
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