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Dec 2012
He arose in a dream to a door to nowhere
As the light grew and clawed down his face
tender refreshments

The sun became clear in his eye
Through the shades drawn tight
Lumbering across the green velvet carpet
to fetch the daily heroes that pile up
like bile under the moss
covered mailbox


He arose from a dream on a platter so starving
for the thought of hysterical madness
Michael Sinclaire
Written by
Michael Sinclaire
627
 
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