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Marcela Proust Poem
It's time to
Test the new
The latest in
Technology
No more need
To drink over a
Gallon of foul
Liquid or any
Sorts of pills
To sort through
In fact it's
Almost
Like a drive thru
Butt in your own
Home butt it's
A bit more
Complicated with
Software butt
What's worse
Is the hard
Drive
Copyright © Marcela Proust | Year Posted 2021
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Marcela Proust Poem
Test icles
Female dog
Oral stimulation
Wood
Rectal insert
Bulb of the vestibule
Raccoon
Box
Ipipi
Del dool
Dike
Cigarette
Akkineni
Mouthification
Analingus
Fornication Under Consent of the King
Fudge factory worker
Gay
Ejacu late
Fleshy folds of skin
Handwarmer
Black person ethnic slur
Pene
Rose thorn puncture
Cono
Strange
Sack
Fecal matter
Promiscuous woman
Pluck
Pecho
Obnoxious person
Faighne
Master Baker
Copyright © Marcela Proust | Year Posted 2021
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Marcela Proust Poem
I once was
A wasn't
But
Doesn't
A dozen
Wasn'ts
Add up to
Something
Copyright © Marcela Proust | Year Posted 2021
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Marcela Proust Poem
My Muse
Squeezed
One out
I think
I will
Call
IT
Panagiota
Copyright © Marcela Proust | Year Posted 2021
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Marcela Proust Poem
Yeoman throw
On another
Faggot
Fuel the
Fire
Yeoman
Throw on
Another
Faggot
To fuel
The fire
Yoe
Man E
Throw R
On an i
Other F
Fag e
Got h
to t
F U E L
Copyright © Marcela Proust | Year Posted 2021
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Marcela Proust Poem
Pick it
Up that
There in
Front of
You then
Throw it
Over
There
Behind
You where you
Once were
Before
When you
Stepped out
Your door and
Walked
Passed
Other
People's glass
Houses all the while
Smiling knowing that you
Threw the first
Stone at
Your
Very
Own
Copyright © Marcela Proust | Year Posted 2021
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Marcela Proust Poem
The body pillow
Next to me not
Embalmed but
Stuffed with
Goose down
Holding it close
To my naked body
I feel no warmth
I must be feeling
Winter's weather
Or thinking
Thoughts of
Freezing
Geese
That
Got their
Feathers
Plucked
Copyright © Marcela Proust | Year Posted 2021
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Marcela Proust Poem
After shutting off the bedroom
lights by closing my eyes; I see
sparks of fireworks in my mind
thinking synaptically.
It's not in anyway a day
to celebrate nor holiday,
so making me more to
think feeding with fuel
thoughts forgotten, now done
brought up from depths not
sought; for caution when
stepping on the edge
of what's surely the deepest depths
of my mind's sea. Seeing old ideas
again, now as blind creatures that
shine by bioluminosity; for we
all shine on
and on and
on and on...
Copyright © Marcela Proust | Year Posted 2021
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Marcela Proust Poem
In a passion of fashion, at the height's
of female pulchritude; try as she might,
Wobbling to walk on five inch stilletos;
All she got were awkward gawks from the fellows.
So not a cat but board walk by the sea,
In a trashcan, she cast away, those shoes from her feet.
Immediately relieved in the sand standing bare;
Eyes closed, to smell and hear, seeming more aware.
As designed her designer dress, to her feet fell flimsy.
Her undone coif flowed with floating thoughts Botticelli.
She slowly approached the ocean's sound, waves rushing meaningless;
Yet covering enough of her legs; then waist, giving rebirth to Venus.
Copyright © Marcela Proust | Year Posted 2021
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Marcela Proust Poem
Yeoman throw
On another
Cigarette to
Fuel the
Fire
Yeoman
Throw on
Another
Cigarette
To fuel
The fire
Yoe
Man E
Throw R
On an i
Other F
Cig e
Arette h
to t
F U E L
Copyright © Marcela Proust | Year Posted 2021
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