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Aug 2014
somehow all neighborhood tribes & tribe lords love you.
somehow you beat my score on the nickelcade spaced invaders.

we leap fences
in escape of party befouled
cops. crusaders
of mustache & veiny hate.

you rip your jeans
& lose your artifacts in the creek. into
convenience store warm lights
& makeout mixtapes.
previously published in Specter Magazine
http://www.spectermagazine.com/twenty-five/lee/
Coop Lee
Written by
Coop Lee  Portland, OR
(Portland, OR)   
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