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Apr 2011
he rots at his window,
a stale cornflake man
with eyes like ****** smoke.
behind his tree bark eyebrows,
he watches the children on the sidewalk
and paints wet dreams
of how they would taste
wrapped around his tongue.

this ***** fingernail man,
he smokes his cigarettes the wrong way round
and swallows the ashes.
Cole Atkinson
Written by
Cole Atkinson
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