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Barton D Smock
Poems
Jul 2012
on acolyte road
brother says
how thin
we've grown
on the fat of self.
I hold the map.
am
its only
reader.
a bone drops.
desert & cathedral
I tell him
the words
I can figure.
bone like that don't break.
he has come to see the marrow of angels.
and I
what devours.
Written by
Barton D Smock
48/M/Columbus, Ohio
(48/M/Columbus, Ohio)
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