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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Saturday, December 01, 2007

We are Beggars Ourselves

here is the party of historical queens
answers by post-bellum house tales
behind doors of tribal scarring bleed
another song on three ships tells
zero scores without surprise
it is said never turn around
the soul is antique & mouth born
ready for fight or flight by scapula
that twist and grind under nighttime
consider it is what mice announce
slight sourness every kitchen returns
to anger and is left as body function
two in the morning crawls cotton mouthed
from which is a voice unsatisfied by quiet


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