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Oct 2010
His throat opened under stale wind
and screamed sharp sounds like fish fin
pricked and cut soft hand tissue.
The bruise was a pinch because
the eye can only see what was
there before the attack surprise.

He performed dog magic in Prague
under willows but lacked
important mastery techniques.
Turned rock to frog but not back,
simply a half witted magi
ruined like slapped sewn hide leather.

Crisped under hot red sun he
shakes in his boat like maracas
he curves with blue currents to shore.
With a boat in the mud jammed rudder
he stares at clouds hugs himself
and sees a rock kiss a frogs belly.
2010
Written by
Don Brenner
1.8k
 
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