I walk about in this oafish skin
pretending to be a man. In fact
I feel more like a bear, drunk
on blackberries gone to brandy
in the August sun. Who would
want me this way: raisin eyes
thumbed deep into this putty
head. I write my name in chalk
on the playground floor. So
when Death comes, he'll know me.
on blackberries gone to brandy
in the August sun. Who would
want me this way: raisin eyes
thumbed deep into this putty
head. I write my name in chalk
on the playground floor. So
when Death comes, he'll know me.
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