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Feb 2012
can't talk like a poet got
a foul mouth I spit blood
people think I'm simple
because I am

you would rather study human acrobatics
like you would rare animals
but their talk blinds your raised knife

curling onto a fake memory
I smell the burning intelligence
just to watch is convenient romantic

Name it.  It kills poets.
Mike Arms
Written by
Mike Arms  Detroit
(Detroit)   
847
   Terry Collett, David Casas and ---
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