giganticjet
This is a webpage but it would rather be a cowboy in a spaghetti western
Monday, November 28, 2011
Poem - Pub Liar
pub
liar
he has
dead
fingers
he has
hay
for eyes
all he
is: smile
jukebox
smokebreak
hugging
two dogs
on a
leash
he wrestles
a face red
like in a
field
he'd fuck
a chair
------
Lower Haight
SF
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