House Of ShoutsA Poem by Leslie Philibertestates...Underclass;a running box that middles the center of a(not)living room. Kidney table;an African girl beams down into the smoke, into ashtrays of burnt souls. Faces full of thin beer admire the box lights of the estate, double binds, grins and hopless rutting. Far ; the flat black of the fields owls and air, silence. © 2015 Leslie PhilibertReviews
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Added on June 25, 2015Last Updated on June 25, 2015 AuthorLeslie PhilibertBavaria, GermanyAboutI`m not important. I just want to write a couple of good poems. Just read what I write. That`s enough. more..Writing
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