For them the waters all

Brokering a busy form
he ignored the ceiling’s leak—
turning back to run & see
he woke the morn itself
& authored children left and right
for all abuse to come and be.
Under him a woman French
& halfway built for food—
in her fist the poem clenched
repeated je vouz mangez too.
A little breath amid the creaks
& fell them both to the slew.

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~ by Jeremy on April 28, 2010.

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