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Reading, writing and speaking
Is all that clergymen do;
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And to think they call this Justice! Take the Cajun Babineaux.
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A thought hit my mind,
And indeed it is true:
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Nice seeing my old friend!
Don’t know when I’ll see her again.
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"Teacher, teacher, don't whip me!
Whip that nigger behind that tree!
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Hardy: On Becoming a Poet
Others write them;
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The Jena kid
Got outta jail
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A Constitutional Dream
The other night I had a dream
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Burnin’ in the night, / Tryin’ to do it right. / Lookin’ for a place / To get away and write. / Going to L’auberge, / When I get the urge;
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The Makings of a Poem / It's hard to make a poem. / Sometimes a poem / just won't come. / Sometimes one just comes. / It's better if you ha
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Those Chicks aat Starbucks / I haven’t written a poem / In quite a long time, / So I guess I’ll try writin’ one / And try to make it r
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Winners Don’t Quit! You ain’t gonna make it, give it up!
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There once was a judge named Hardy,
Who was always the life of the party;
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"I, I, me, my...."
Why do you speak
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This is a funny business.
People go to the doctor;
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The old American Flag stands over in the corner
Of the pretty little church near Downtown.
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A PRO BONO lawyer named Billy McKinney
Went often to court for nary a penny.
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There once was a Judge named Fred,Who some suspected of being a Red. While some Judges went down to Aruba,
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There once was a judge named Gray,Who walked out on the jury one day; And left the lawyers to pick the jury, &nbs
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When atop the riverboat I stood,
I viewed the skyline of the city;
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Write a poem at night!
Write a poem and make it right!
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Today we laid old Corky Orms to rest.
Of all the friends I've had he was the best.
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"Teacher, teacher, don't whip me!
Whip that nigger behind that tree.
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The curtains hang along the banks
Of the Jordan River,
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When Old Hardy is dead and gone,
Those other Parkersons will still live on:
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While hundreds sit in jail
For lack of a few dollars
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Pretty, pretty girls everywhere, everywhere.Gotta tell those girls that they are pretty.Gotta tell those girls that they are pretty.Old ones and you
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Old leather bound LOUISIANA REPORTS
Going back a hundred years
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Cast mot your poems before swine.
They'll turn and rend you each time
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When you are a lawyer,
The Judges talk hatefully to you;
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Sittin' in the courtroom all afternoon.
Hundreds of defendants in court.
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