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Open Poetry #28
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Michael G
Senior Member
since 2000-06-25
Posts 579
Nashville

0 posted 2003-08-10 07:14 PM


dirt in the form of beauty
released from the anger
of two second interlude
laid out across the road.
laughter, intense in its
form that masks the daily
grind of metal attacking
the process of thinking.
"come to me", was the
silent explanation
torn between lust and
dirty little secrets we keep.
scraping my knees on the
floors of indulgence,
the sweat smell of roses
attack me, laying me out.
quick wonderment, for a
moments breath of life
that no longer can concern
my daily rituals.
I am free of nothing,
though freedom does come
wanting its due, its
payment of nothing grand.
its become a joke, that
I find absolute poverty
to be richer than anything
I have worked for.
that in the hills beside
the hollows, maybe they
have always understood
the meanings of it all.
and here I am, laid out
for all to see and spit on,
in some strange way we have
found loneliness to be private,
   and privacy a thing to be destroyed.

© Copyright 2003 Michael G - All Rights Reserved
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