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AL FRESCO CAFÉ POEM #182
RENATA POEM: THE BIRTH OF THE AUTHOR #20
Trap set
To
Break
The voice’s legs
Our minds
Set
The sharp-toothed traps
We agreed
To
Step into the traps
Scatter
Our voice’s blood over
The parlor upholstery
And the affable fables exchanged
In after-dinner conversations,
Spread the blood even on
The plastic bowl of wax apples
On the table
Of simulated wood*
*This is a late poem of Renata’s shoe period
Duane Locke
Posted over on The Hold
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