Thumb Poem #18


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Frank Sauce smokes boatload of smokes in a saucier way

"Would you rather Pavement or the world?" He asks us


"Hope," we all could reply


How many times do I have to stand amid art and listen to pandering drivel of pompous asses


Too long it seems


They must feel it's important


They are so silent now
"Souled", he says


Smokers outside smoke the man and his microphone that smotes us


I am reminded of why poetry is a black art


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