vazambam
new old kid on the blog, with an occasional old or new poem written off the old writer's block
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Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Poet in the Aviary
1.
No more beating round the bush, boy--
Just murder for the thrill of it,
Fire at will.
2.
Bad chicks' blood seeping under the sill--
That's more like it,
No more mockingbirds to kill.
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