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The Borrowed Poem
To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.
Friday, January 4, 2008
outside. now.
The air smelled like rain waiting to happen.
From the Corner of His Eye
Dean Koontz
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California Syrah
a woman's name?
I love the recklessness of faith.
Clare:
in themselves
facts
With a flush on its petal tips;
Moonlight Sonata
The less we say about it the better
I have
I was like Shutupandreadit
leave them.
why?
aka Alexander Supertramp
it's not about you.
outside. now.
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About Me
Steve Grant
New York, NY
Be patient that I address you in a poem. There is no other fit medium.
View my complete profile
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