Three Poems by Kevin Chesser
TRUCK
A tough old crawler
leaking prison ink -
full of blown apart babies’
dolls and muttering bricks.
TRUCK
A tough old crawler
leaking prison ink -
full of blown apart babies’
dolls and muttering bricks.
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Sometimes
when I have my eyes closed
or my back turned
or I pretend I am sleeping
I cannot discern your voice
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