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Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends

exit 229, just off I-80

i burned the tainted toys
who inhabited
the sick room
of our children

my hands
tore to shreds
the print of picasso’s
guernica
as the clash played spanish bombs

i no longer care to remember the war

all the dead tea bags
are in wednesday night’s garbage

the european coffee cans
became coffins for pets
buried in the ground

all that remains of us
is the occasional wince
of lingering poetry

i’m traveling north
to perform at a university
in our
half way point city

but no matter
screaming signals
broadcast through white noise

i won’t

be making a right

at
youngstown

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