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More cinquains

August 5, 2006

Waking
after his rest
the grizzly bear stretches
sniffs the air for honey and writes
new poems.


The coarse
bristles; his beard
itched me when I kissed him,
I could smell the scotch on his breath:
Father.


Grenades
would be so much
easier to handle
if they came with pins that didn’t
pull out.


Pull out
all of the stops!!
It’s my birthday today
(really yesterday but I’m still
part’ing)!

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One comment

  1. The Blog is Dead. Long live the Blog.

    Effective immediately, I am discontinuing this blog and relocating to the following site:
    https://barkowitz.wordpress.com



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