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On the dialectical process of poetry-writing

If ever once my words took flight

may this song now break their wings.

Snap the hollowed chicken bones

and scatter feathers to the wind.

As sun bakes dry the loam and silt

while tigers prey on lambs,

I find your love less

filling than

some godly preacher’s scam.

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Written by
jason-needham
Published
Jun 2, 2013
Lines·Words
9·49
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