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John Destalo
Poems
Mar 2020
brother’s parties (the 70’s)
the door was locked
the sounds behind the door
were loud
voices of people in the room
and on the records
wicked words mingling with the
sweet fragrant smoke escaping
like a genie from
a magic lamp
my pre-teen mind
listening at the door
for my name or
any other reason to enter
Written by
John Destalo
55/M/Harrisburg, PA
(55/M/Harrisburg, PA)
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Carla
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