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May 2013
Not a poem goes by
that strikes me violent with life
as if the author murdered to
enchant each word
& each letter testifies against him
& his mother cries in newly purchased fabric--
she instinctively wore
no make up--
& his guardian angel shields its eyes, pureness tainted,
obligated on strict orders to stick around--
wings wet in the rainfall.
Malcolm McGill
Written by
Malcolm McGill  Lancaster
(Lancaster)   
493
   --- and Nicole
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