I protested and howled from courtesy and righteousness,
I was in pennies, I was in a coax of shrunken wisdom.
I made up my sobs, collecting my taxes, protruding the taste,
So finishing my task of powder and slime, of present and past.
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I was a muscle, not a nerve; I was a mouth not a nose, my neck Cropped out like sudden branches of the holy wells and trees........Queitening the negative man.......protest such a fine poem dear poet.. Naveed.. tony