This Poem was Submitted By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2001-09-24 14:36:23 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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Fear Itself

once, we were ripe with possibility and the juices   of this plumb of a world flowed inside and through us and we could stick in a thumb and pull out a wild whim of assumption of good that was before the deflowering by bully club before the drums came  close enough to shake the ground and hang us all in the air naked and upsidedown before all the color in television went gray and  innocence shattered  in the marketplace  before the  baby-faced monkey grimaced and postured pursing his lips into words  he didn't seem able to  conceive, perceive, believe Long before that  when strummers strummed  drummers drummed and battle lines were drawn in india ink rooseveltchurchill gave us words    that circled the globe walking the narrow  tightrope between  might and right   with no internet at all    

Copyright © September 2001 Rachel F. Spinoza


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