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Brief Poems
A collection of short poems
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Treachery builds
first in the stomach
and then upwards
toward the lungs.
A splattering of chunky
yellow vomit.
Why is it at these times
I remember you?
1 comment:
Noah the Great
said...
Ooh, I'd hate for that to be me you were thinking about.
June 16, 2008 at 10:06 PM
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1 comment:
Ooh, I'd hate for that to be me you were thinking about.
Post a Comment