nathan martin

Rookie (uno 16 80 / oregon)

The Cure - Poem by nathan martin



what comes next and who should i follow
now that the sky seems to be liquid
and my eyes glass.

cloudy pockets of air separate,
two thousand degrees past the
derived plant base.

facimile days reproduce what
else was left.


so now the farenhieght steeple
becomes are god.

in that open space we all burn bright,
three thousand degrees past a timid heart.

there you were standing next to me

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Comments about The Cure by nathan martin

  • Sharad Juneja (4/21/2012 11:26:00 PM)


    From my side `10 plus...a sheer delight ot read (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 21, 2012



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