Email Poem

Your IP Address: 216.73.216.98

From Email:	Required Email Address Not Valid.
To Email:	Email Address Not Valid. Required
Subject	Required
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem	Sleeping in fever, I am unfair to know just who you are: hung up like a pig on exhibit, the delicate wrists, the beard drooling blood and vinegar; hooked to your own weight, jolting toward death under your nameplate. Everyone in this crowd needs a bath. I am dressed in rags. The mother wears blue. You grind your teeth and with each new breath your jaws gape and your diaper sags. I am not to blame for all this. I do not know your name. Skinny man, you are somebody's fault. You ride on dark poles -- a wooden bird that a trader built for some fool who felt that he could make the flight. Now you roll in your sleep, seasick on your own breathing, poor old convict.
	Type the characters you see in the picture Required