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  • Confusion

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    His back to the window, to the world.
    I often wonder what he sees in me.
    Cautious feet going down steep steps.
    The laces tied by tired fingers.
    It takes so little for things to come undone.

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    Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

    Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

    Stormy’s Poems (10)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    The Deep End 0
    Gone 0
    Flawed 2
    Alone 0
    Flesh Wounds 0
    Like Suffocating -1
    Down 0
    Grasping 0
    Rhyming 3
    Not Listening 1

    Stormy’s Friends (1)