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  1. The Gospel According to Skeeter (Book I)

    This is
    a collection
    of some
    of my
    poems
    that deal with
    homelessness:
    **************************
    "...You, stumbling dumb
    At night, as pale stars break,
    Lift your thin hands for some
    Hope, and suffer, and wake..."

    Herman Hesse from Lonesome Night
    ***************************
    Distant Thunder

    empty, I rose
    only a little off
    but storming toward crazy
    ...

    Updated 11-16-2010 at 12:44 PM by hack

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  2. The light is green!

    When the Earth and Moon
    were close as the oceans
    of their molten blood

    One and not congealed

    When stars long dead
    were newborn

    One infinite mind's eye
    looked on a nascent world
    and permitted a passing conceit
    God's reflection, Man

    Now if that sorry S.O.B.
    would just realize
    the light is green
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  3. Breathe Dammit

    She crossed the narrow frontier
    at the elastic border of Heaven
    which, as is well known,
    expands and contracts with God's every breath

    Even a shallow cough balloons to save
    countless nearly worthy souls

    As she stood, very close,
    peering in, as best she could,
    God, distracted, cleared His throat
    and let her in

    Updated 06-19-2010 at 10:37 AM by hack (final edit)

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  4. Across the Wide Missouri

    Gazing with the morning
    across a wild river
    to the lesser shore
    untrammeled
    where dire wolves
    surround an aging
    short faced bear

    Straddling eden
    I crowd the dawn
    and wait for men
    to rush across the brink
    and shape a world
    without a place
    for wolves and bears

    Updated 05-25-2010 at 11:35 AM by hack

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  5. In a Taxi in Suriname

    What is your name, brother?
    I am Jean-Paul.
    You are named for two good men.
    Saints, sir.
    Yes, necessarily dead. Saints, I mean.
    They are still as scented death.
    Yes sir.
    When I was a child, Jean-Paul...
    Yes sir.
    When I was just a child,
    and watched a baby sister die,
    I wore Gucci frames.
    Donated,
    to or by some other saint,
    I don't know which.
    And though I saw her clear,
    through that prism, ...

    Updated 05-25-2010 at 12:59 AM by hack

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