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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Monday, June 12, 2006

Bone Swinging Monkeys

the air isn’t the same
safe as home with road rage
when circulation drops in arms
uncle falls from lit marquee
that some old naomi grasps
bossy on the way down
comments like movie news reels
like loss love, life & limb
this is the new republic
on each village blood exacts
pulp like fossil fuels staple bound
to dead-eye each noir thriller
in cuneiform of defensive wounds
can’t wait for the new canon


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