an outhouse callA Poem by jacob erin-cilberto
downplay the sceptics of it all but the manure laden capitol is out of tissue and derrieres cannot be scrubbed clean when the noses need to be exhumed first and the dead night shines darkest in the hallowed halls where "no" is the only moon seen in the blackest eyes with no glint of compassion just a blink of apathy and a sordid moving on. erin-cilberto 10/30/22 © 2022 jacob erin-cilbertoFeatured Review
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15 Reviews Added on October 31, 2022 Last Updated on October 31, 2022 Authorjacob erin-cilbertoCarbondale, ILAboutOriginally from Bronx, NY, I live in Carbondale, Illinois...teach English at a community college and have been writing and publishing poetry since 1970. I am here to read for inspiration from other po.. more..Writing
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