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SuburbanalCuts

Poem excerpt from my poem book

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The skiing was slurred.

The visions blurred.

And only Soso

Could see the line curved.

 

I obliged Soso for a ciggie

A yard sale for 2

I obliged Soso for a piggie

But she had already cooked him in a stew.

 

Come on little wiggle for the Promised Land.

Wiggle Man come come on.

Come on little siggle to the bonistt land.

Wiggle man run run on.

My husbands ashes

are buried

in

New

York.

 

 

I'm planning on making it into a book in a few years.

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