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UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY
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LESTER ALLEN
Nothing casual about it I know very little about what most would claim to be pertinent information the state of the stock market or correct way of doing most anything instead I am caught constantly stumbling over the fine-print written in to this pact I've made with the stars while wishing on time that it might somehow forget to include me in the final draft leaving me rummaging through dumpsters in the alleys of dreams satisfied with the sweet smell of my fingers & that sticky feeling in my brain I punch tickets for train rides to places that don't exist & you think that I think it will somehow make me better while snorting the souls of unborn orphans in your sleep I miss people that I've never even met you tell me you’re proud of me just for being knowing all the while that the cupboards of my soul are empty and this part-time employment of dreaming isn't going to pay the rent still you feel this puzzle is one worth completing while my guilt slithers like a snake into the garden of your smile knowing that there's too many pieces missing for that to ever happen Dependence Day you can be anything that you want to be she said if you'd only put your mind to it I want to be the ferryman on the river of Styx I replied working the split shift with Charon maybe then I could understand why people cry at funerals why old ladies cling to their copies of Harper's Bazaar like oxygen tanks for emphysema or what a mother's touch truly feels like and all the guts inside Fort Mc Henry wouldn't get Washington across this river any quicker than a wooden smile with Molly Pitcher there dressing wounds for a Mr. America pageant now she had style too bad she couldn't be here to open my head and inspect the contents before shipping them off for replacement maybe then I could write an Independence Day poem that would make our forefathers proud but my heart is just too involved to have me believe that there isn't some truth to the saying that nothing in life is free and in looking around I'd have to say that Francis Scott Key mustn’t have been much of a writer Lester Allen has been slinging the ink for as long as he can remember. A full-time writer, he has released his first chapbook titled "the days carnivore" and is hard at work on another release titled "back dooring the muse" to be released by tainted coffee press. He travels the country to attend readings and has had many of his poems grace the pages of the small presses. When he's not writing he enjoys; horse racing, billiards & drinking Guinness. Writing bios in the third person doesn't quite make his list. You can find him on MySpace |
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© 2008 Underground Voices |
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