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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Sunday, July 17, 2016
Sublurbia
Ah, to be
A sylvan living in
Sylvania—that carefree
Sapling spirit never to be
Crushed by the crunch
Of SUVs driven mad
By pedestrian poets reeling
Off their sappy rubber-
S
tamped verses crashing
Into tree after tree after tree.
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