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A Poem by Vol
Because we have no idea
when it ends; we fly merrily
from Birch to Oak to
Persimmon...
Because we have no idea
of the fly perched on..
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A Poem by Vol
It is the eighteenth of Juneand
it is hot as soup.I’m
smoking a cigaretteat
the bar and nobody I knowis
here. That Blues chick
is
setti..
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A Poem by Vol
“The
night is falling
and
it is a long way down,”
you
said, and sipped your
Merlot.
Caught me by
surprise
on my side of
..
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A Poem by Vol
From a long time ago
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A Poem by Vol
Someone
once said
“Nothing
is so distant
as
one minute ago.”
Like
a perfect face
glimpsed
in a crowd with
eyes
so green, a..
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A Poem by Vol
Poetry
isn’t poems
poetry
is wisdom, insight,
and
depth of thought, poetry
is
a finger in your face, and a
gate
to fantasy. Poetry..
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A Poem by Vol
Blues is rock-n-roll
smoothed out, slowed down,
so you have time to think.
It is anything but sad,
more like traveling
with the sound of a m..
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A Poem by Vol
true sstory
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A Poem by Vol
I really
like it when you
shake
your hair at me like that,
the
way it sweeps across my
face
and chest, or by the hands-full
when
I..
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A Poem by Vol
Dark had
made itself at home
on
the road, there was no one
along
to help cut the night
as
the radio featured an interview
of
a vag..
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