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It doesn't take long for me to write a poem like it used to. No, I see a stream & think not of rhyme or of rhythm--words spew out like blood and venom. There's no secret to it, no golden key, it just comes. It bubbles out of me. I am a word-faucet.

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Written by

william-crowe-ii

For You?

Written by

william-crowe-ii

Published

Sep 25, 2014

Time

1m

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