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Swearing Off ... again By Richard Fewell Sinking slowly (5th time down)... The fish do not want me, they stare accusingly, at this intruder, a bizarre blow/fish/man soaring downward like a wrong/way balloon in an up/side/ down world... Barnacles anchor me crawfish scoot away sand exhausting in my eyes, clams pinch my toes (there's a fire in the water!)... Seaplants slap my bulging jaws, and in the shroud of octopus dye I see that nobody came to my funeral nobody came! Lungs screaming blue gospels I float back to the hell above air lights leading the way ... © Copyright 1993, Richard Fewell, All Rights Reserved. |
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Document last modified on: 01/06/2007