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Emily B
Poems
Aug 2016
smoke signals
Sitting on a log
This morning
Trying to fan
The smoke of wet firewood
Into a tolerable flame
Nice lady walked by
And asked
"Where is your blanket? "
My what?
"Your blanket,"
She said
"To send all the smoke signals.
I had to laugh.
I only send mixed
Signals
Especially to white men
Written by
Emily B
45/F/Kentucky
(45/F/Kentucky)
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