The Mind Shook Fits with a Pen

Because I couldn’t type deliberate and preciseI took it upon myself to say,myself to myselfso there wasn’t any confusion,all of

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Dead Shoes

I step in dead shoesclay feet with toes of stoneI stand and pause between pacingsa refugee from the referee who

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Folk Song

Some justice is whore justicebecause more justice is wrongI am the neophyte plebeianposing as exemplar, dredging syllables into songI take

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