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Frank Stanford

(1948 - 1978 / Mississippi / United States)

In Another Room I Am Drinking Eggs from a Boot


What if the moon was essence of quinine
And high heels were a time of day
When certain birds bled
The chauffeur is telling the cook
The antler would pry into ice floes
Swim with a lamp
And we'd be shivering in a ditch
Biting through a black wing
There would be boats
There would be a dream country
The great quiet humming of the soul at night
The only sound is a shovel
Clearing a place for a mailbox

Submitted: Thursday, September 04, 2014
Edited: Thursday, September 04, 2014

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