![]() AmbitionA Poem by Soil Creep
In a walk past anile Americana
passing a modern laborer, who speaks in burned haze, a collection of refuse, butts in his pocket. But we both know that is a lousy way to include only a specific kind of idiot.
© 2013 Soil CreepAuthor's Note
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Added on February 14, 2013 Last Updated on February 14, 2013 Tags: art, poetry, postmodern Author
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