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PK Wakefield
Poems
Jul 2013
Untitled
America is ******'
a bit its lips
are
America is
its tongue
the slippery
and sublime
it
so deeply feels
its throat
tight to fill pretty
her eyes
rolling wonderful
the whites
roundishly
enervated pink
with
a bit of sharp
a bit
of
glass
smoke and
pipes
her lipsfull
the meat
of "****"
and
when you
push between their parting
emits
the frailest squeak
but
*** er
the she
wants to
please *** er
the fucc
er lips
the cooly mess
er cheeks
damson stained
and puckering to
kisss
Written by
PK Wakefield
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