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  1. Inspiration

    This poem was originally entered into the Subject contest in the Personal Poetry forum.


    We have this bag of beads;
    They're glass and green and red.
    My muse she spills them on her head
    Like a giant pouch of Burpee seeds.

    My muse is two not three,
    And she'll tell you how it is:
    "These beads are mine" she'll say, "not his."
    And so I'll fain to leave her be.

    She'll ...
  2. FeO(OH), Fe(OH)3

    This a poem that I submitted for the "Picture Poetry Contest".

    Here' the image:

    Here's the poem:

    FeO(OH), Fe(OH)3

    Rust reduces iron and steel
    to a fine brown or red dust.

    Water is the villain here.
    Fe loves O so much
    that he robs her twice over from H.
    And the villain is quartered by a ...
  3. Ode to Trash, Which Might Mean Something If We Knew the Story of How It Got There

    Potent, acrid, & grimy --
    the thing smelt like gasoline
    and dirt

    rubbed together
    like a hippie worry bead

    probably torn & soft as tissue
    paper even by then

    his hands, which could not help
    but paw the letter in his

    Who knows what it said?
    I sure don't. The ink was rubbed off when I
    found it.

    But I could still smell his workman's ...
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