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Hallogen Rows
lighted eyes of machines,
caterpillaring the city galaxy.
I propped on "Cemetery Hill".
Laid wet, slop-shoed,
from black snow.

Decembers clouds are haze,
thick in night undone.
Arches, Bells, Kings
beacons feeding the masses.
Air of ribs, wings, and other flesh.

Rubber slices concrete,
noise of sea waves.
My neck turtles,
at Thousand feet dropped sprinkels.
A siren tells of pain,
somewhere on the map.

A Tower member modeled,
blinks pilot warnings.
Wolf relative is talking,
of passer-byes, and
Mates unseen.
I'm keeping stars,

Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

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Date: 12/22/2009 6:59:00 AM
You have an uncanny twist to your descriptions that reminds me of a better me ... keep the good thing flowing, friend.
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Date: 12/17/2009 2:28:00 PM
"Layedwet, slop-shoed." ?? laid wet slop-shoed? fleash/flesh...a bit disjointed..again what you're writing about is SO immediate to you...I like to read it in the present tense. (no 'ed's)Loved this line "My neck turtles" For should have a reason for capitalizing..just my opinion ;) Light & Love..please read Neon Vomit Over Broadway
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