by Bob Hicok
rusted, and listened to this probably
tomato soup, propably kite, what the string
was meant to hold, the sky, in its tug,
saying blue is the color of the wind.
and there it was, his own voice
from thirty years ago, telling the girl
he liked the smell of her hair,
which he could never say to her face,
when she dropped the can and moved away,
to Toledo, it was said on the playground,
where punches lived and the first bell
was ignored, thinking he should answer
himself, now that he’d learned, but what
had he learned, he couldn’t say, so he said that
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![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-eU4BEohhy9IYjecjQV0FUBe-B4-rIYkAGHRCKRRf_1uHAbIAeMWgRfC9Rub6tZXD8qw_6ebLPJMr59bzLPMyHnRA36EcryCzJ7QNAqUwfN8FRCC0T27_pz9ewnmYCC2g3jkPbA/s200/diane2.jpg)
About the Hot Actress: I was going to post Olivia Newton-John, but then some sites said she's had plastic surgery, so I asked Sweetie who I should put on here, and she was stumped until I said "How about Diane Lane?" and Sweetie said "Okay." This isn't brain surgery, you know.
1 comment:
it's so nice post. thanks for the post. work from home
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