Replying to a comment on:
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.
horus8
11-Dec-02/4:53 PM
is it...could it be?...no it couldn't!, but yes..once again 'not confessionally confessional poetry', by none other than..? you got it mr. poetry. not just any normal poem boys and girls but a riveting american staple that you to can purchase at wallmart in the form of a taxidermied mallard with a brass enscribed plaque. thanks uncle charlie! i'll put it right next to the rocket i built last week...say,,will you fire her off with my at the play ground this afternoon uncle charlie..that'd be swell.l
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