It Does Poem by J.L. Nash
It Does
it does
left on concrete
a bloodstained chainsaw
it does
it’s empty now wiped with antiseptic
the incubator
it does
crumpled inside another’s pocket
receipts for flowers for someone else
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
Topic(s) of this poem: concrete
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8/28/2026 12:16:03 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
