Thursday Mass - Poem by James McLain
It visits me; Thursday evenings
because it is the night
when it is free responsibilities for its parish.
The day before he visits;
freedom I can't obtain thought out of lt's spirit,
I envisage ghostly; now how angles
I will welcome to him with a great juicy kiss
and cold glass milk,
and the cat becomes so wet
that the fork of my breeches is soaked.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You