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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Bulldozer and the Microphone

off on the longest march again
under embarrassment of desire
in each thank you note
permission is the substantial gesture
to pause and stand by the shop bell
we are the clear wooden ring
in the puzzle of our racial affectations
surtitles that hang over operas
to each his own private reading
with apostrophes as it may take
the one with the fauxhawk
crossdresses our national satyricon
what was punk in ‘92
couples aren’t what they used to be


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