Seconds Out,

December 3, 2008 at 6:44 pm | Posted in poetry, writing | 15 Comments
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What a life that was
lived in the key of F.

Sliding into town, Jimmy Sharman,
bit dodgy round the hips, a strange
limp closely followed by three quick
shouldered free spirits lured and kept
under wraps on a vague
promise of travel.

Fifty bucks to go three rounds
in a ring in a bar with thirty men
but five women. Why not,
I’ll do it
again
in search of a vague end
ding,

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