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Zach Willett
Poems
Nov 2012
ricey mist
like a wild rice
a grain gone mad
he was left when all his brethen were all right
in the mist
a golden beam shone
she was alone in darkness, surrounded
to fall right out of a circle is to fall out of being a square
a word is a heavy blanket and learning to burn that blanket is comfort destruction
while you were out picking tangerines
i was making my burning man suit
Written by
Zach Willett
Long Beach, CA
(Long Beach, CA)
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