Reasonable doubt

Presumptuous enough to think I’m the stuff that poets are made from and I go on in the belief that I am. where the dreams become rhymes and the rhymes become seams that stitch together the dreams he beams in delight that the thing comes out right. but I’m flying a flag for the hacks…

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Fixtures and mittens

It’s like there’s a couple of words running around in your head and you’re not sure if it’s a song that you heard or maybe something you’ve read and then the words in your head become flames on your tongue and you don’t care anymore because they’re your words and more and the more the flame…

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Loops

Statues never get the ‘flu or if they do I never knew a sculptor who could cast an alabaster sneeze…

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Excuses

This is not me and I typed that slowly,   poetry is not me it’s just poetry although some of you know that some of it is,…

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Buffalo bones

Alone, I write poetry and perform on my own honing my skills and if it kills me, let it. What use to me the audience? the polite applause is an inconvenience. I need the solitude to magnify the things that flit through my minds eye. But the readers feed me as I bleed into them…

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Another incident

Our silverware sold off to china our crockery already there Politicians that float down the Yangtse pay homage inTiananmen square. I drink my tea in a cup from Formosa but that name was sold long ago, I have asked about Bombay and Persia, and nobody seems to know. Things are changing so fast I wonder…

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