Poetry Poem
Poetry...is motion- lotions and potions for the notions of emotions;
the quotient of devotion, the depth of unknown ocean, a chosen explosion, well-woven and open, it's hopin' and smokin', a spoken token for serious jokin,
unless you be chokin'

in the case- use a pen:
to question direction, and to make corrections as well as connections
to foreign complexions or other reflections on old friends and trends,
the tao chens, if not now whens?
your heart-breaks and heart-mends,
escarpments,
apartments and
g-love compartments,
dartmouth vs u-penn, we win- 12 to 10,
time and again we express from within,
impress who listen,
caress them and then,
address them as friend and
undress the zen
to all living men:
-to take where you've been- now later and when;
-your friendships with jen, and with ben and with gwen
-the real and pretend and the love that you lend and the love that you send to all of your friends
-the rapper's new benz, with 40 inch rims, and the bling-bling trim, and you can't see in because of the tint
-and how you cant pay the rent on your apartment and that letter you sent to congressman kent, asking him where all the flowers done went-




this poems over, brothers, sisters, i'm spent!
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