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I am reading your work
I feel like a spy
a member of the CIA
perusing documents that
are not mine
maps of places I
should not be
poet, artist, writer
you are just a man
bad teeth like mine
and variable eyes and ears
hear either too much or see too distortedly
can not cure
is no blessing in a velvet dress.
place five ripe
mangoes in my pockets
the juice smells of turpentine
the juice is sticky
but the taste is that of a foreign nation
drunk with power
satiated with warmth and sweetness.
your praise is as sweet as the mango.
© Copyright 1998, Halsted. All Rights Reserved.
© Copyright 1997, 2017, The Fairfield Review Inc., All Rights Reserved.
Document last modified on: 07/21/2002