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Colton C Gardner Mar 2013
Sometimes I'd like to say the word ****
Scream it
And yell it
On a mountain
In my mother's face
At my burnt toast
Composure is stifling
Trifles, mostly
Sometimes I'd like to write the word ****
In an essay
On a desk
Thirty times or so
****
**** poetry
I'll just write ****
**** **** **** ****
**** feels good
Colton C Gardner Mar 2013
Seven
Nine
Twenty-three point zero five
Cotangent of angle a

What can I find?
Why do I look?
It's a secret that I mistook
for a solution
Variables that make me
*****
Integers that
Irritate
Numbers give me the heebie-jeebies
Resolute in their
Absolutes
No quarter
Just one over four
Colton C Gardner Mar 2013
Wily wisp
thin and crisp
Build a clock
full of ticks
Wrap around
twist inside
Pendulum
Quartz
Cues and cuckoos
Twelve and naught
Age begot  
a grandfather-ghost-clock
Thirteen chimes
Three times
Colton C Gardner Mar 2013
A blue
a blue
from under the brown
behind the square and
between the circles
Few and singular,
the blue takes a step
to the left and the South
Bereaved, the blue sits
believing
It is good at hockey

Faithfully skating,
mucking and making
musical messes  
Its banjo twang and
its choir sang,
and the color red had yet to call it

Pity the blue
for it is truly
in trouble
Its flips don't flop
its whizz's don't fizz
Its preposterously powerful past pastor has purportedly put a price on its puny posterior
Poor piddly pathetic blue

But of course,
blues do not have butts

— The End —