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Saturday, November 16, 2013

Where the Hell am I?


 

All sun and shadows,
Skeleton trees and blue skies
This Fall morning.




Outside my front porch
A wood trembles lightly--
Just an aimless nod.


 

 It feels like springtime,
But it smells like late summer.
Where the hell am I?


 


 Patient Alfred sits
As his mom licks his face.
They have each other.


 My beloved fence
Lies ready to be repaired.
(Why do I feel sad?)

 

 None more appealing
Than a girl on a proud horse;
Nothing more remote.

 

 Peter's watercress
Billows in its concrete square
Once a foundation.

 

 "I am not your toy;
Whiteness is of no concern;
I will roll in the mud."























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