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Jane's Gone

I'm lazy like a landscape; a calm scene
with a bridge, a river, an old stone house,
and a thick band of hand-painted sky.
Water flows, clouds pass, seasons change,
but the picture remains motionless.
I once had a wife, Jane, who liked to go out,
but I was a homebody. So I told her one day
that I was tired of her ways, sleeping in her
company was nice, but she never let me sleep;
I was her john, her five times a night sex pot.
She said, she wearied of me, said I was intolerable:
she left me in the local wood, put me out of the door,
but I returned, to lose her in the supermarket.

Part I: http://poetry.tetto.org/read/22054/

12 Feb 06

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very good, I like the style, I can sense its movement
 — gjenkins

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