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Letter from Palermo (Free verse) by Caducus

Rivers of cataracts were hospice aisles, where canteen zombies raped etiquette bludgeoning my youth as I waited for Grandmas high when she'd call me her husbands name until the drugs wore off and she called me 'Giuseppe' rubbing herself till I cried. Syringe maidens and skin pinchers Came to keep her 'comfortable' As Nan asked for Tea To be made in her Ming China cup. I made her a tea with silver In a plastic cup by plastic sheets She whispered 'Giuseppe'. On her eighty eighth birthday Nan crawled by herself to a window Watched the sun fall like memories, Whispering I was told an Italian name Before paling on the golden lino Clasping a letter sent from Palermo. I buried her with Grand Papa but kept her ashes for the South Wind to take her back to Giuseppe.

Caducus 24-Nov-05/5:10 AM
It all makes sense what you say. Its hard to see what needs to change and others see it but seldom say it in a way that is clear.

I need to change without changing the good points.

Let me know with any future postings if you can.

I think I have the ideas and some are too big for my limited ability - I am not saying their i am crap but maybe my ideas are too vast for my talents.

Thats the gut reaction from your comment.




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