Junkyard Gates Poem by Erik Wilson
Junkyard Gates
The idea is there
I can't seem to understand-to encircle or wrap or warp the way it digs
It jives in front
of me and mocks my inner bird.
And I just WON'T have it and my
mind halts at these junky rotted gates of this rather grand idea-
And a rather hideous struggle ensues.
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5/5/2024 8:28:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
