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Pumpkin
par
Bo Burnham
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Letra
Someone carved a face in that pumpkin, and now it's perched on a stoop, grinning with the same sinister grin the carver must have had when he carved it. And everything I recognize as expressive (the triangular eyes, that big toothy smile) is marked by a lack of pumpkin. A red face of dead space. And now I'm seeing just the opposite. I see two spots where the eyes should be, an open wound where thе mouth once sat, and a fire within, baking the insidеs.
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