Lost Moon
J
James McLain
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I must leave this copulating dream
of inequity with my bottle of wine
winding down through the trees
stumbling where is my friend
the moon.
To know his comfort the hedges
crackle and tear. Upon me they
pounce tearing my Cheongsam
to shreds as they repeatedly
thrust into my back fading
thinking of the wine is
spilling ground drinking.........
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