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"elbowroom" poems
I used to chase needles without thread Perhaps lace, laced strongly and surely No doilies for spoiling souls My mouth an overflowing ashtray Arms a fracking site deeply polluted But today I had a taste of freedom Not full liberation But unrestraint in the chill of the night air Immunity in the damp grass Elbowroom in the dimmed night sky My brains puppeteer must have taken lunch Now that I’m not being dragged and pulled In every which way at full strength I hope he never comes back This limpness leaves behind my limitations.
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Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC
Taste of Freedom