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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Thursday, July 07, 2005

Splinter Faction

invisible does not die
in the new affairs of hatred
only born again to judge
this park with trees on fire
i plan my escape
deeply bruised by chairs
in the way of true marriage
our underworld grows
where we are sepia toned
& learn to play with tommy guns
i wish for super powers instead
one prayer unanswered
again in the crutch of incident
shaking with blame


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