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Dec 2014
they take the fruit of thy wombs
to march under plastic lights
box them next to bombs dressed as
butterflies


shudder-filled and gaping eye-lets on
shoeshined leather shoes
jaundiceyellow dresses,
skeletonwhite tights on fertile limbs
for sunday-fundsday in polyestered churches


(unholy penises
clandestine vaginas
bitter *******
pails and pails of rotten milk)


the spermcelled youth does
one-by-one
recede
(shut down in silence)
like ancient ocean waves pinned
to walls of basements
(if ever there once existed a single thought
poured into vocabulary like thick honey
it has been yanked,
uprooted)


the doublewhites pinguid with natural resources
at the stroke of the clock, seven minutes
exactly
darwin's darlings

top of the line

highways in their white & yellow
lines
white picket fenced lines
lineages that stretch on for miles in every dusty yearbook
inside every polished private school
long lines of feminine hair
hanging from the neck
pulled by pudgy pink hands
assembly lines of them at midlife
(pensioned & post-thanksgiving-dinner days,
“satisfied”)
in conveyor belts
waiting to be shot
"dead"
this is the first poem i have written that i can say i am truly proud of
France Joan Duffoó
Written by
France Joan Duffoó  25/F/New York
(25/F/New York)   
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