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Tip-off

Winds whoosh by the outhouse

It’s a tiff, they say, between steadies

The girl’s all knotted up; beau’s stiff

by the meat cleaver, captious.

In the overture, they made love

like mereswines, thoughtlessly,

at a bargain. She went into debt

for him, a skin parcel too much.

 

Poem By Patricia De Oliveira

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