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French My Pardon
Poetry,
It’s when you’ve trapped a passion
Wrangled, wrested, pinned it to the ground
Watch wary
It’s elusive
A demon delusion
A moment here, a
Nother gone.
The words stomp, scream and whine
Whimpering and wailing
Though you batter, barter and
Slaughter some
The rest remains undone
A spinning spool of thread spitting in your face
Back pedal
Your bicycle might bump into a bog
And swallow all your sumptions
Flummoxing faces and
Tittering fools
Smipletons and
Sniles
Allidiles and
Crocogators
Brain bent and fried, smoke wafts up in wings
No, rings
You mean what I see?
I’m marbles my losing
Who knew black pages and blank letters
Could be so
Confusing?
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