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-ever a Son


artwork by this author

Down in the Palette’s breath, there where the waters play, someone is singing, surprised on a smile
dancing in darkest grey, tries to light tractor sparks, tries to wince slowly while lifting his neck
nothing is odorous when the nose swims at twenty feet, for breaths take on water, though dryness it rots
teeth will get pulled again, doctors will operate, but nurses might smile, and awaken you might
so pay them those tiny bills…



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Fox Kerry

Fox Kerry

If you paint for me even one thing which is true, perhaps I’ll be tempted to consider two. I tell tales poetically, someone else needs to set them to music.