Poem Hunter
RG (March,31st 1977 / Monrovia, Liberia)


the pile, smoldering, risen high with stench
completed with overemphasized compliments
given and regiven, though mis-given
i, oh i, yes i, returned the favors in tungsten
no greens, no pinks nor lavish frugalities
i stood as only a man can and unraveled formalities
it felt good, was grand to be understood
better to be sapien(s) than another rancid brood
alas, friday's freedom, good friends, companions
fluttering by concisely, nothing random
every'thing was destined my hypothesis thus proves
the point of ev'ryday as this writ behooves

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