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The Poems of Norman Clayton
Poetry and insights into poetry
Friday, April 07, 2006
A tattered old woman,
the sea wind screams
sweep, sweep. And I do.
I really do.
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lonely is the rainuntil it joins in puddleswhere t...
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no longer the carmel colorof her youth, she is sti...
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important the moonspotlighting empty deck chairsc...
Fleets of grasshoppers surround meas I sport my wa...
knees like coconutslegs pink as parking ticketssti...
The moon glazedlike a breakfast roll,and the tulip...
The soul with its bloody sheets,all those forts hi...
A tattered old woman,the sea wind screamssweep, sw...
built hot dog fashioncold wheels to the groundyet ...
Falling, I lifted up, as ifI was on a plane diving...
She crowds her sweaterwith her dreams:one manless ...
Her sweater, lifted, filled,her dreams --one man l...
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About Me
Clay
a stone dreamer, lazy, but loving I make a wonderful friend
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