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They were once women,
born pure as white petals in June,
untouched flowers, until they were hewn,
but now they sit and watch and wait,
on the ..
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What makes a man handsome?
Not his stoic austere,
his grays of yester-year,
stoney eyes' stare sincere,
nor lack of all that's fear.
It's his..
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Oh- What words but were wimbling whimsys, wierd and weak.
But why wouldst I want of words when knowing what they reak?
Would I be wiser to whisper..
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Wake up-
a train screams out in the distance,
like some dying old world god.
An old-world god,
red-eyed and peeling
out of the earth like an ..
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On this side of the river, the left behind boy with the pack of black dogs watchesas the grey winged eagles gather to guage out the eyes of the guil..
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The simple, smooth faced silent girl stood on the bridge underneath the trees, her ruddy muddy hair tangled and woman's body clumsily clung to the b..
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Like the tree that blossoms by the first of April
(The fool,
with limbs wide open
when struck by a cold snap
and washed of all it's white
..
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The Church Street Traffic Island Homeless Paper Lady
Sexless sentinel,
standing on streets sidewalk serving
us our daily bread
with a double d..
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Your tongue is the taste
of a bitter-berry burned into the banks of my mouth.
Sweet pain
that isn't realized until after you've left,
like a spl..
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Cyclical White Trash Boogie #9
... boy who would be anyone,
anyone but his father's son,
and so he took his father's gun
so he could put end t..
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