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Jefferson Carter Jefferson Carter Male, 91, United States (10/17/2013 8:16:00 PM)

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Doggo, I like this. I never insist poems make sense, only that they skirt total nonsense and pique my interest, that they're non-derivative and vivid. This poem does all of that. I've edited it just a tad. Good poem.



Waked

Frosty gourd
Almost smiled.

Cloudy Black suits
Milled ‘aound
The soft pillows.

The Widow was
A silhouette.
Your feet were
Parched. You looked

At the floor, bored,
Felt sudden. Felt
Stale.

They were all spinning
With the earth. They
Were canvas.

No one was wringing
Hands, not even you.

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  • Steven Ralph Rookie - 1st Stage (10/17/2013 9:59:00 PM) Post reply

    Thanks, Jeff. I don't mind you took out the 'walnut' part. I just wanted to emphasize 'funeral' in case people couldn't figure it out.

    When I copy and pasted it, It left out the first line. Pissed me off but who cares. I'll put it on the regular page. You liked my second person narration?First person didn't work as well. At least it didn't suck.

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