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father Worked Nights (Free verse) by poetandknowit

father lived in a factory. he would pound, pound and pound all night long, never stopping, never saying why. Laugh and scream, pound and pound -- no lunch hour, not even a coffee break. Pound and pound, using the cat and mother for his steel.

-=Dark_Angel=-, P.I. 27-Aug-02/8:51 PM
Yeah, well that's just bollocks, isn't it? What an incredibly narrow concept of poetry. Such melodramatic ideas as 'soul' aren't needed to say what poetry is.




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