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Sunday, June 03, 2007

Weed

Category: Issue 6, Poetry/Lyrics Winners

Where love could grow
Are stagnant, stinging barbs:
Just wire and rain, washing down.

Insects crawl.
Six legs are too many.
Barbed, barbed wire
Where love could grow.

In the midst of all the cement,
There is a joke or two.
The girl doesn’t always get hurt.
Sometimes the guy is just
A cigar.

Without despair,
There’d be nothing to really cry about.
Without disreputable disrepair
There’d be no reason
To get a job.

Where love could grow,
There’s only stagnant metal
A few six-legged monstrosities
And

A flower, in the midst of
All this cement.

A dandelion. 

Posted by julianyway on 06/03 at 01:27 AM | Permalink
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