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Jan 2013
In his baggy sweaters, he looked
Like a dress-up child or hexed shrunk in swimcloth
He scratched a ticket with the
Vending slug he found on the ground
A grand!
But none did he share to Sam
Who drove his ***
And bought it nonetheless!

He had taken to sticking himself
Draining hot spoons, a fiend for G-I-between beans

In the back of a heavy whip, fading and yolk faced
I'm so glad to
Have you around, guys
Nod (always hit hard for such a noodle) and nausea

They carried him newbridewise inside
Cracked his head on the door frame as
They passed his invisible
Father and mightuzz wellbe mumdrunk
Left him on his pillow where he
Spun into Z world, final dream

Sam collapsed when we
Got the call and I could see in his
Raw face and ****** dog-vision hair the loss
He would sacrifice much more
Than that ticket to
Reverse
A friend

Another beauty down in mill town
Written by
ERR
881
   PoetWhoKnowIt
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