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Sometimes Starr
Poems
Aug 2016
bored of this town
there is a cage around Lansdale
with a hole in the roof
orange street lights
make sloppy kisses with the muggy summer air
moths flutter,
and it smells like wet trees.
how many empty slabs of concrete
like crooked teeth all along the road
will i have to traverse
before i'm out
before i'm able to deploy my wings?
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Sometimes Starr
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