no ketchup
no ketchup
he ate lunch
like a bachelor
leaning over the kitchen sink
two micro-waved hot dogs
loaded with mustard and relish
~ welker ~
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she wrote poetry like jazz
brautigan's riddle
christine's lament
good friday
when the night comes down
my childhood moved so slow and beautiful
antique
did you see the poets all dressed in black
life is like a crossword puzzle
waiting
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