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Jul 1
poems scattered around the room
in my never ending fool's errand
as poet laureate of Watercolor's
perfect world of happy accidents.
We drool and weep out of context
but scratch a portrait of Sexton
dead in her car in the garage.
We copy Plath's ****** scene of
geese escaping winter to warmth.
We endure cures of our lobotomies.
Brilliant light was smothered.
Grey men 4 years old on knees.
William J Donovan
Written by
William J Donovan  73/M/Charlotte, NC
(73/M/Charlotte, NC)   
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