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 7h Kennedy
reproaching his fellow man
eyes all with burning coals
yearning for the rising sun

the caveats fuel
yet he is without service,
his engine block rusted
the firing pistons stunted

driving the flat stretch
inching nearer
the blank star
 7h Kennedy
resolve to say much with little
to speak more with less
listing for silence

bend your words to air
and see them flow
bleeding forth
amid absent effort
the genuine stuff
 7h Kennedy
 7h Kennedy
that we may fall
to arms

blades sharpened
on the grindstone of hate
atlas stands

shouldering the weight
that their words
were willed to do wicked deeds
he weeps

at the long suffering
at length and still here
 7h Kennedy
he stopped me, a little further ahead of him
on the sidewalk
he said
"I've lived this life before"
"and?" i asked

he just looked at me and walked along

— The End —