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Adam Schwab
Poems
Dec 2013
Slug
With a flick of the wrist
And a tug on my sleeve
I pull back my fist
And my lungs start to heeve.
The way that you talk
With the way that you get
The stride of your walk
How you wiggle your hips
It's makes me feel warm
Like a fire in June
But not a good kind of warm
Suffocating in a tomb
When I see you I tense
Every muscle so tight
And every day since
I'll be up for the fight
I will not fall back into the hole that I dug
Cause I'm better than you
You slimmy old slug
So think twice before you spit on me
Cause I got the salt
Just think how easy it would be
To upend my bottle and end you
Your fault
Because a slug seems to shrivel with salt
Written by
Adam Schwab
Springfield, MO
(Springfield, MO)
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