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Patrick Kennon
Poems
Aug 2019
Asphalt Us
Mid day wake up, med cup, emptied into open palm, balled up
Left, everything just left, like a morning smoke burnt down
Bound to fail, lay low, hail on the tin roof out back of the cove
A grove, cut down, covered in asphalt and heat and us
Written by
Patrick Kennon
33/M/x
(33/M/x)
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