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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Fifty Bucks Same as in Town

& just phoned in
the last damnable line
of straw men hung
for what is in real flesh
at 12:35 at night
the one you're with
invokes the name
but the fire went wild
before you did what you
wanted less false
this way to the great egress
of affections and lamplight
dimly affording your answer
what is left to dream with


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