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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Brand X

under the cold medicine
i kept talking about mice
& not wanting to play brighella
i don’t enjoy masks
for the enfranchised
weeks turn to paper
in the bad winds
that breaks winter’s spine
i hear small bomb cracks
rough streets in protest of morning
every hawker is awake and out
who to sell to?
i keep thinking
this is how jesus happened


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