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Mike
Poems
Mar 2018
Shaving
The memories have always been there
I never observed
When work matters dominated
my world order
The thought of one low-level bully
Repeatedly appeared
Guiding me slowly to the self-
referential argument. Never decided.
Where did my mind cling
While I reverently shaved?
Infrequently, did I nick my phyllo flesh
And blame the dough roller razor in my hand
While the hell of razor-leaved tree-
Jungles surrounded my mind
But now
Now a torrent of important memories
Tied to love and loss
Yearning
Bake the leavened dough
Of my empty existence
Written by
Mike
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