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The Vessel

My voice is a hollow vessel where words spiral down into a whirling dust storm and exit dirty and unwanted as if riding on the hooks of some God-forsaken 120 degree desert. No specific value has ever been assigned to the words that stick in my throat and always leave like a mumbled mishmash- a jar of miscellaneous buttons with threads pieces hanging on in disbelief. A lone vowel has gone off like a disciplined child- her pink mary jane's scruffing the barren sidewalk with utter disdain. Consonants drift and drown into a muddled pond overgrown with hanging algae.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

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Date: 2/16/2019 10:36:00 AM
Dawnell, I rarely do this when I read a poem for the first time, but this one went immediately to my FAV list. Welcome to Poetry Soup my friend. I hope you stay.
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Dawnell Harrison
Date: 2/16/2019 9:53:00 PM
Thank you so much for ALL of your grest coments!