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slam poetry

which i wish to remark
above them all, looking down
calm as that second summer
desolate and lone
as i lie roofed in, screened in
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
the old west, the old time
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
they in the darkness gather and ask
tell me
there was a time in former years
uplifting, as the wind blew
listen to the sounding sea
the sun is up

 



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