it sits outside my window now like and old woman going to market; it sits and watches me, it sweats nevously through wire and fog and dog-bark until suddenly I slam the screen with a newspaper like slapping at a fly and you could hear the scream over this plain city, and then it left. the way to end a poem like this is to become suddenly quiet. Submitted by .eve.
Added: 2 Jun 2002 | Last Read: 19 Feb 2017 6:13 PM | Viewed: 10852 times
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