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Where I grew up, music plays right before you die.
It’s always been this way.
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Beer is running down the wall.
Rage is a thick hand nudging me to strike her.
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It’s as though I’ve been sleeping
and you woke me up
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by afroqban
38 lines, 27 comments,
on Aug 9 1:24 AM
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She says she loves me.
I tell her she shouldn’t:
by afroqban
39 lines, 13 comments,
on Aug 9 1:19 AM
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The laundromat is crowded.
Children, despite their own area of toys and yellow
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I watched as Steve repeatedly slapped his 15 year old sister in the face; he
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I wake up in the sticky of flat beer
and shaved hair, in the morbid pale
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In Jr. High, I wasn’t tough, but I was no punk either.
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Here I am again on this big yellow school bus
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My girlfriend walks in, says--
Why are you always reading that woman’s poetry?
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Bones, such beautiful beautiful bones-- dumped from
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Sometimes a tongue
with its wet, cruel words--
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The elderly man next door tends to his small garden,
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She fears her son will grow up gay-- she’s caught
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Joanna is in the kitchen pining over a man-- her eyes burning
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I’m back in Chicago with one large plastic bag
stuffed with everything I own.
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When Grandma was alive she fed squirrels through the window
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My Dad has three gold watches. He keeps them underneath the t-shirts, in the
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While all the little boys caught lightning bugs
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Sundays comes like any other--
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Through a teary gaze slumbered and defeated,
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While rain pelts my window in tat-da-tat rhythms,
I read an article about the virus that causes aids,
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You make me sick, in the morning slamming the toilet seat down
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