Ruffled a bit, plowed through
vine-ripened, as if,
tricked up to a point
and most definitely fingered--not
in the sexual way rather
accused, rightly, of holding
something of value
salted sad strolling
keep in mind that the waves
you remember
pounded at a space
not chosen necessarily
they kept returning was and was
this is the beach
this the shore
and rocky, the colored cliffs.
Plain American Language
I cut a sliver/of WC William's finger
and placed it inside/my philosophy...
and placed it inside/my philosophy...
Sunday, July 12, 2009
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