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UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY
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DUNCAN FANKBONER
in the middle of the last century dusty run down windows walls strung along just for fun rocks up the hill just the right size for throwing old factory town dirt roads in and out you'd think there'd be somewhere to go nothing like that what we had a baseball field a vacant lot weeds and baseball gloves splayed swollen fingers a ball with some torn leather around it all that and the spirit of things bigger wider than anything we could understand playing till the light was down till a cold wind blew us home to rented houses calls from back porches hunger just another spirit holding us together 54' the year school and the excitement of girls who wanted to kiss and school books filled with lies and mystery |
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© 2007 Underground Voices |
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