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  1. H

    Can you taste poetry or do you need a fork to eat it?

    I...pulled in to Lynchburg, intentionally sober. uncertain of when the show would start, I wanted to be prepared. I smelled my life in ricks of oak, charred and simple, the process was in my eyes. the leeching was so reminiscent of a barroom afternoon... drip by drip, extracting the true...
  2. H

    Is it time for a palm reading?

    We never kicked cans or played stickball we ran with the bulls Mexican brown pointed in, to check out 2 dimes and donut, to go please tricky, it was silly kids, such optimism Don said it was the best in town Andrew swore by it....daily for 12 years and he never got hooked so we ran dodge...
  3. H

    Do you have a TV in your house?

    ... computer...check electricity...check time on your hands...check global search engines on the computer you have plugged in and used to ask where can you watch a game....check
  4. H

    Will you read a poem dedicated to a moment?

    . . as she walks out the room, he watches with intent and thoughts of hands smoothing over soft curves lips to flesh, slowly moving where we are, to where we can be hands holding my head up to see your heart in eyes of Love asking, needing, wanting and in silent bliss, I rise for you to you...
  5. H

    I want to be a poet....Whose ring should I start kissing first?

    or should I start at the other end and work my way up? . . a wedge is useful until it becomes a wedgie then a painful tugging tends to cause chafing and what was once thought attractive, now turns to a dream of badness, longing for a kick to start pushing you on toward a better place perhaps...
  6. H

    Is this poetry, or do some know nothing at all about this?

    . . I sought answers where mystery left me confounded, I cared to know how could one be so sad? in what cavernous mind, had hate sweltered molding into acerbic dust? lost for the truth, I bowed accepting what I may never know awful origins that mislead one so concluding, it can only be...
  7. H

    I want to be a poet....Whose ring should I start kissing first?

    or should I start at the other end and work my way up? . . a wedge is useful until it becomes a wedgie then a painful tugging tends to cause chafing and what was once thought attractive, now turns to a dream of badness, longing for a kick to start pushing you on toward a better place perhaps...
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