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last poem of the robertsnw (hold your breath now)

Posted to Action Poetry

Cast debris into fan parts and laugh as the pieces fly back into my face, now that’s history, the storm of paper, watching the gray lines twitch before they hit my hair and fingers march through, eyes close in reflex, snapping back alive, in awe of my own laughter, that I could can will take pride in this, ripping up letters and memoirs and journal pieces of a young mans drugged writing, the idea is having something to look forward too, quit depending on the eyes in the back of my head that I don’t have, weight test the idea