OK so my last poem was a vacant father much like its subject knew, or hung. | 1 |
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Gardening makes space pretty for the people, | 2 |
And the earth swallows those, | 3 |
Last laugh... | 4 |
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Thanks. | 5 |
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The one about coffee, this isn't Friends | 6 |
It's the one about how I wake up and how breathing | 7 |
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Is done. Could be done. Couple coffee and lips | 8 |
And then plagiarise the poem I read before this | 9 |
Tension. | 10 |
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Couplet like Juliet, | 11 |
Aardvark like hamlet. | 12 |
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Hammer the poor bae | 13 |
To his shit stain and then crisscross | 14 |
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Hamlets and mountains, fjord | 15 |
And flume. | 16 |
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Countdown the hours | 17 |
To when the poem was Ruin. | 18 |
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.Afterall, a fairytale is something pretty | 19 |
And her bruises leap at you | 20 |
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From the poison on the nightstand | 21 |
Or bullets from a teaspoon. | 22 |
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I can't shake the salt enough | 23 |
There isn't any left in the ocean | 24 |
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But my arms are | 25 |
So strong | 26 |
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And you, my love, | 27 |
Could crush nails between thighs | 28 |
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Mooning the blood | 29 |
Or sucking it from cups | 30 |