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L B
Poems
Nov 2017
Disorientation
Can't see the dawn
from the angle of dusk
Even harder to believe--
it could see me?
Why would sunrise care about its setting?
“I think you'd hafta be flyin', er sumpthin'
Maybe if I banked a 180
gazing into that new east?
Okay--
I know it's not
I could still see the reflections
of where it was
of warmth and color where it used to be?
Okay--
...and now I'm just the warmth of the reflected
disorientation
--*******, that poetry-killing six syllable word!
Ya wanna pass that joint
before I land this heap without My wheels down”
Sometimes I need to not-- be so serious.
Written by
L B
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Grace
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r
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patty m
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Grey mirror
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