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Hunting Lions

Poetry for your heart not for your head.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

Toast


the last regret was chewed up for breakfast
mostly a random thought brought up like toast
comfy in the tight uncomfortable booth
inconsistency of the waitresses day
put forth on the table with a glass of funky water
while the bus boys wipe the slate clean

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Posted by huntinglions at 11:35 AM

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