The Ladder
This is a dynamic ranking ladder of my poems that changes in real time as |
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home = www.epicdewfall.ca
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#1831 | Like batting practice watching lovers leave. It's truly close. Just like flee. The electric razor with electric jolt. So frighteningly close to me. _ |
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#1832 | And you're not using, those evening cards! I've stopped, people! and ask them to. I've penned at winning everyday. And loved that cars can't too. _ |
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#1833 | If he asks for one hundred dollars. Do you have that spatula key. Then throw the stove door open! So he cannot know such tree. _ |
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#1834 | You're not using it? Knowing she was near? You're not using them at all? Those blankets, and nights so clear? _ |
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#1835 | You were there weren't you? When I really sold that guy. And then they finally knew. In moderation, with one try. _ |
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#1836 | Yes that's right. If you buy now, it's third. But not one of them are here. She's gone with it! Or as her copymate, I've heard. _ |
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#1837 | If there's anything I've left not right please tell me. For as I dust I'm goofy. If a flower is wrong! or cup, out of place. Now that could, wow be juicy! _ |
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#1838 | Oh I'm sorry! I gave you a mustache didn't I? Mere witches, we've called tragic. And yes I listen, for their magic. _ |
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#1839 | It's amazing! -How Grin finds dates. Everywhere he goes'es. So in a way he's found a home. And I'll never, know such proses. _ |
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#1840 | It's not that funny, that he's trying to get out. So they're sending their youth gangs too. Games aren't fun, without device. For all the good they'll do. _ |
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#1841 | That looks important to you. So honey dew. I dream of you. The whole night through. _ |
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#1842 | A window is the prettiest picture. Of winter that I know. There I'll hear the inner lecture. Where all good snowflakes go. _ |
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#1843 | I've been gone from this terrible octet. With eight sides and it's own hearse. It smells like fries and sells like fries. And to purchase, costs one first. _ |
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#1844 | I watch eye runs, in order to try. But what does hope, near thirst? To open cans, or go to battle. It's called the home rock. But never worst. _ |
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#1845 | Let's look. We know there's something there. I'm scathing with Phoenix on it. Open the bay doors easily. I don't care. With no sea to sonnet. _ |
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#1846 | The ones that are out there. Are pretty empty! Already dressed like priests. And yes they walk very gently! So I'm avoiding, becoming least. _ |
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#1847 | But then as if they could not tea. I see them trying tangently. And as they walk down thumbtack road. I see the day they never hold. _ |
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#1848 | You have to pay to open it. It's called the My Arms Snooker You. But the real problem you see is this. They cost one arm, for two. _ |
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#1849 | I have paintings within my life. And quatrains within my mind. And within the hope of knowing you. I give posters of my time. _ |
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#1850 | Every day is a marid of thoughts. And thoughts like a pyramid stay. Two steps down from their tops. And that's enough words to say. _ |
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#1851 | A fork in the road. Or a fork in the river. There is no escape. From the results giver. _ |
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#1852 | I'm at war with nature's hour. Perfecting my one two punch. Explaining to rhyme but never touching. Then winning by right hand lunch. _ |
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#1853 | Twenty attractive young people dancing. Their party inside a cellophane bubble. Empty cellophane street cube at night. My inbox of zero trouble. _ |
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#1854 | So they have my best art. At the end of me. So they have our best art. At the end of tree. _ |
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#1855 | When you get home please phone me. So I know you made it safe. And remember to the lonely. The whole world looks like haste. _ |
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#1856 | A male picking up dog droppings. Before the poetry-readings ran. Always dreaming towards beverly-hills. Feeling it's-good to be a man. _ |
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#1857 | As near as I can tell. There are no focal points like mind. For whenever I look upon a city. My nice receives a fine. _ |
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#1858 | Somehow I'm quite optimistic. And I go on patronizing inner say. Oh, no, He serve pages. I'll have the "not-around-here" tray. _ |
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#1859 | Chapter nine everybody! Cue the policemen's watch at noon. I'm "reading" a lunch that happens tenderly. What the heck did I assume. _ |
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#1860 | I'll try some of that "liken" up-a-bit. With some "barricade adore". What's that like? Your program. What's happening Mac you board. _ |
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home = www.epicdewfall.ca
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