quiet, i'm hunting rabbits.A Poem by Boyd Johnson
her hair whispered you can wake up to this every morning. if
cause if this goes bad, it goes bad for everyone. shut your mouth, and let me come and go as I please, and ill let you wake up next to me. don’t you enjoy being a kept man? trust me. its easier this way. © 2008 Boyd Johnson |
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Added on February 29, 2008 AuthorBoyd Johnsonthe great and oft forgotten north of nyc. poughkeepsie., NYAbouta freak. an outlaw. a hot piece. -j.m. a hometown boy who loves the hudson, his drink, and his hat. hiding under the train tracks, with a bottle of irish moonshine, toasting to it slipping thro.. more..Writing
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