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John Fleming Poem
fingernails cut
with pocket knife
dirt too deep
to scrape
his grandson
held
his thumb
like a warm
wooden toy
Copyright © John Fleming | Year Posted 2011
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John Fleming Poem
I wish I could
Taste you
then spit you out
My love is addiction
I touch through habit
Copyright © John Fleming | Year Posted 2011
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John Fleming Poem
Sweating
he hung
a swing
between two live oaks
Striking
he hung
a chain
between two black hooks
Swinging
he hung
his hands
between two strong roots
Copyright © John Fleming | Year Posted 2011
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John Fleming Poem
Slowly slipping
around my rose bush
plump, red tongues
wet to the ground
remember the taste
of the high, green stem?
Copyright © John Fleming | Year Posted 2011
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John Fleming Poem
White bike
spray painted
by dad
but the spoke rattles
and hot pink reflectors
were all hers
heard and seen
she made sure
but when I last
saw you
when we last spoke
we were nine
Copyright © John Fleming | Year Posted 2011
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John Fleming Poem
Moving in small spaces
day after day
the same turns
from up here
you seem to spin and spin
clean shiny gears
Copyright © John Fleming | Year Posted 2011
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John Fleming Poem
She threw it down
but it didn't go out
and I watched the wind
cherry her cigarette
he pushed her skirt
well past the thigh
blew back her hair
she closed those eyes
taking one last draw
he danced over the trees
Copyright © John Fleming | Year Posted 2011
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John Fleming Poem
In crazy lines
the wheat was cut
the farmer thought
aliens but
late one night
he hid awake
and found two boys
with hoe
and rake
he ran them off
into the stars
he ran with them
into the stars
Copyright © John Fleming | Year Posted 2011
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