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Archive for August 6th, 2012

Suffering the Reds and Blues of the Breakfast Room

Most times, I’m not grown
enough to sit by god,
and I eat in the kitchen,
the breakfast room, plastic
plates, no knives, and god
cannot share his will with me,
my brain still frozen blue,
the mean boys stuffing me
inside the red romper room
ball with the tough round handle
on top, cackling at my
deadly future.

I see the service
dog, the beautiful
Shepard sitting patiently
with his mistress, she loving
him delicately, awarding him
for his perfection, and I
say I wish I could be you,
boy, for I know the beautiful,
the loved, sit in the dining room
and luxuriate in god’s
will, in god’s kingdom.

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