|There's a satellite in orbit with a large hotdog.
Kept clamped at its core unchased.
It may have the last clear view of a sky.
Before cell phones have filled up space.
|Dare to teach the sun a lesson, and hide
in the freezing cold. Let the be world
teach you gently, or by its sting be told.
To whet oh pliable soul.
The poem that wins your vote migrates up a Ladder in rank one step.
The poem that looses your vote migrates down a Ladder in rank one step.
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