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It's not even fair for the old to write poetry.I mean, there should be some personal exemptionon a box you put an x in on a 1040, or perhapsan exempti..
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i WAS so free in the eighties. Click here if you saw me---.My jheri-curl slick as the tyrannical sunshine. Pullingcompromise out the air like King Lea..
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i want to know everything about the skyso I can restore or bring to a condition ofhealth, the sidewalks of the city.Yes, i'm a dreamer, since it's the..
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I hate the playing of ukulele's.Usually it's accompanied with a smiling face,as common as air. And at this late dateI need to explore all the things t..
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Daffodils growdreamy in my yardalong with the white narcissus, stillpining for love. Neither of which Iplanted. I shall explain this tumult laterwhen ..
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In the sixth grade there was a falsettoin the Black church that's so very hardto write about now. That's the one goodreason why the neighbors shun me...
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when I was a boy, I dreamed oftenof a tree house that my father never built.Not because trees were tall, but becauseleaves are too casual,too incident..
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a love poem in E-flat.
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(labor day spelled backward)
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no ONE will notice.no ONE will even care.
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