Cab, Pickup

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  • Nature

    Cab, Pickup

    Malibu;
    Is the feeling today.
    With a hint of grey;
    Dashing under the under-lay.
    A passive white can reveal;
    The golden glory of being still.
    And I do not say to count the stars;
    A map will do behind bars.
    Present whimpers like lightning and limbers out wisk rowing.
    So, staple latern cause.
    A dear, dear, loss.
    To think anything of a lantern,
    I lost the test, the thought, the low earn.
    Maple fall.
    Low end call.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    Paulppaul’s Poems (5)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    A Life 0
    I Want A Girl 1
    Iowa 0
    Man, I Fold 0
    Cab, Pickup 0