Nobody talked.
There was nothing appropriate to say.
It represented a flaw in the design –
treacherous, unstable, eager;
on the edge of a desert.
Clocks wound.
Everything pretty much all right.
Source: Slaughterhouse-Five or The Children’s Crusade: A Duty-dance with Death by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
Method: This is a remixed poem composed from chapters 7 & 8 of the novel.
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