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Blog Title Photo

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Lead Her

Later you just might score, 
I never said you are dead. 
We buried this over animal music. 
Our stand-in event, was passive, that much I made,
at home we could have slept about space,
Jokers said, "But are you clueless? I have assets."
But he, day one, was not imagining,
We all have been beasts.
Muse, I see Miss Ivy!
"Expert!" I meant, "Heart care actor!"
Is this how we versed of Moon?
A poor tune, tie'd down to come, a Husband.
So he cared for them,
Before my bovine smoke party.


with Eva Moll, July 21, 2006, 58, 59, 60        Part I, Part II



The Muse Poems:

   1  2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

He crept around . . .



He crept about babbling,
a traitor with a whipped tongue.
One who won't observe death.

So alleviate my sweet anger,
     share money, sculpt.
An innocent experiment was felt.
Who chooses, doesn't impress.

Hence decay
     snapped her from that trotting fiend,
a vile fellow around pure life.
Beneath empty music,
a hollow crowd strung,
 . . . His garb must stink.

with Bianca Moscatelli,  October 3, 2007, 24, 25, 26

The Muse Poems:

   1  2   3   4  5   6   7   8   9
10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18
19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27
28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36
37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45
46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54
55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63
64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72
73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81

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