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The Red Light Man (Free verse) by scitz
Big hand on seven, Little hands frozen, Black puddles flow, A vagrant laughs then collapses, Here I stand waiting for her, By her allocated lamp post, Watched by a white man talking like a black man, Flicking old presidents. My hair stands up like a marine, Ashamed of the color temptations become, The traffic lights turn green, Harlots cling on to the stationary buicks, Here in the last saloon of lowlives, I see my face blurred in shimmering puddles, My wife at home cooking me Steak, As I just wait for for my pound of flesh, I feel no remorse, I am a still membrane. Desire is my enemy of conscience.

Down the ladder: A Sea

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Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
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Arithmetic Mean: 5.6
Weighted score: 5.0715218
Overall Rank: 6535
Posted: February 27, 2003 2:23 AM PST; Last modified: July 28, 2003 8:51 AM PDT
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Comments:
[9] spank me baby yeah @ 62.105.88.10 | 27-Feb-03/3:01 AM | Reply
NAUGHTY NAUGHTY MAN ! BUT I LIKED MANY LINES IN THIS, VERY GOOD 9
[9] Jeremi B. Handrinos @ 24.126.113.154 | 1-Mar-03/11:03 PM | Reply
That was swell.
[7] daniella @ 200.68.193.28 | 8-Mar-03/7:24 PM | Reply
go home and get your meat. if you dont go home and eat your meat you will end up with no pudding love.
[8] horus8 @ 24.126.113.154 | 28-Jul-03/12:03 PM | Reply
I would end at enemy.
[8] cacophony @ 62.252.224.6 | 28-Jul-03/1:31 PM | Reply
Like it a lot - I agree with Horus8 however "of conscience" seems to muddy the last line. 8
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