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The river canyon stands
testament to the battle
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Critical feedback is appreciated.
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Would appreciate critical input. This is pretty rough. Just scratched it out and need new eyes to help spot the places that need sanding.
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Constructed from fragments out of my poetry "scrap heap" journal.
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Maybe the Muse ended her sabattical too soon?
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The Muse is back....I think.
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Last night, as I lay sleeping,
the pixies came to play.
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Her compliments were exquisite –
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Being here with you hurts
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Lies are usually rounded and smooth
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For months, I choked on secret words
that rose bile-like behind my tongue –
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she works, framed by his crisp shirts
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He said, with a disdainfully tinted eye,
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tonight I told the anecdote again –
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And I shall write only of cats
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The stars whisper cliquish secrets to one another in the darkness -
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Gay glass shards
are making music
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I breathe out trite tributes to
life’s stale betrayals -
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Behind me, the uneven hills
fold eastward - one behind another –
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In the midst of blackest night,
it’s hard to think I might be glad
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Almost too late, I remembered –
as I was sinking for that fatal third count;
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Tonight, I wept and
rocked with my grief –
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In those silent seconds
(that might pass for eternity
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I watched “Chocolat” again tonight.
And, wouldn’t it be nice
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this dish is a delight – not just to eat
but to come home to the smell of.
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Death of an icon – again.
I guess suicide’s not cliché yet
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I passed the Seventh Day Adventist Church
on my way to purchase
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Quotes by me that have absolutely no redeeming social value.
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In her eyes,
the seductive lie
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