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Baggage- Hell. I bring Cargo.
Salvageable only to a degree.

It can take pallets of sugarcoat
just to dress for the day.
And a box-car of make believe to
simply conjure the current

Alternately …
I’m the evergreen of
ever-ready…the already
gone of the go… told ya
so…
Cargo

**NaPoWriMo 2011..Number 15


Twenty eight damn words isn’t poemin’, it’s sloganeering at best. I’ll be your fortune cookie. But politics have stepped all over 30 in April, and there you go…so.

Day 12 NaPoWriMo April 2013

Retrograde

Who/What
programmed
last night / early morning
perpetrated fraud

a
drift/ grift
of
dream/ scheme
suggesting

I’m

but
a
satellite
of
contingency

a
moon
too
soon
in
orbit


Concurrent Majority

It’s all going so John C. Calhoun. A retrograde swoon. And always a moon of the moment to hang a history. A high tide of whichever side sees it simply as sink or swim, and still wet behind the ears, they reenact, to payback… Sherman’s march to the sea.

Feel Free…

to think that argument fresh, fixed, and hitched to a wagon divine.

It’s no never-mind. It’s been done. Its disciples dust and they hold no proxy on the present.


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