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slam poetry

often is it not so?
and still they walked on
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
i am fevered
out of the deep and the dark
i went up and down the streets
happiness
when the wind works against us in the dark
the lightning flashed, and lifted
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
when i returned at sunset
the darkness
it was a tall young oysterman

 



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