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Peter
Poems
Feb 2017
Ernesto
I caught a glimpse of Che today.
His black eyes bold. Ubiquitous.
I'm sure they must have looked that way,
when the asthma turned his legs to lead.
And the muzzle flash,
fangs copper-cased,
bit hard, and sunk into his head.
Written by
Peter
Spring, TX
(Spring, TX)
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