Unusual orbits, slow bounces, darksides fruits of consequences, pistons moving organically, softening their sound, like a train traveling in slow motion.

The Don Flamingo Poem

The orbits, slow and strange,
Bounce with consequence untold.
Pistons move like living things,
Softening sound with grace untold.

Darksides yield a mystery,
A fruit of movements slow and rare.
Like a train, in slow-motion free,
It moves with grace beyond compare.

Poem by The Automatic Juggler

This is all about ➞ Don Flamingo

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