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Jul 2010
Spinning on the ground
leads to spitting in the skies
underneath the pillows
underneath the lies.

Discover what the boredom left
crevasses wide and deep
smashed together like a puzzle
holding off the sleep.

Hunched over like a sack of weeds
carrots for your mother
mixed up letters numbers
each one to emphasize the other.
Ruth Forberg
Written by
Ruth Forberg  Chicago
(Chicago)   
634
 
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