Short Poem No.27

When he went to sleep the world was fair,
the countryside was bare and the bear’s, well,
they were just bears, not a symbol, not a
knock-kneed peckerwood’s front yard statuette.
 – A front yard’s like a man’s face, you got to keep it clean,

“Now, hell, I ain’t got two silver dollars. Ain’t even got
a horse to ride out on if I did. I had to bury the critter.”
He chose the bed he would die in and then
died there 40 years later. That is, until now.

The name of God is [UNPRINTABLE TEXT]

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