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Post by leecrowell on Jul 21, 2011 23:16:20 GMT -5
There are three things she told me never to do
and I should have written them down there was once a time I could process all the voices of the day, keep the tasks in order table the fun stuff until I could get to it
I'm going to the nearest bar for cigs and a shot maybe tell the ladies about the time I woke up naked on a pew maybe sit in a few hands of poker, catch the final innings of the game
Later she’ll drag me to our room take me in that special way she does as sure as the magenta polish on her nails as sure as a fist through sheetrock as an embrace of forgiveness gets us to another day
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Post by Dunstan Attard on Jul 22, 2011 2:31:50 GMT -5
comeing straight from the beat of life with a mixture of impulse and thaught that always makes for a pleasurable read with images and thought lingering in the subconcious...
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Post by inchiki on Aug 18, 2011 20:02:49 GMT -5
lee this is a great poem - a great poem i say!
"a fist through sheetrock" "gets us to another day"
sweet.
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Post by Don Schaeffer on Aug 19, 2011 9:43:10 GMT -5
This is really fine. I agree with the others.
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Post by Dunstan Attard on Aug 23, 2011 8:07:22 GMT -5
has cascaded from good wine to the finest port
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