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I fell in love with the breakfast cook
With his shiny roung glasses
and his steam-faced smile
One simple, foolish sausage and egg grin
And I floated off--
Like steam in thick air
Over all the florescent orange booths
and the stone-faced people of the city
Some bringing in red California dirt
on the soles of their shoes.
And I...
Sitting in an obvious corner
With Balloons tied to my hair
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Posted by luvurneighbor on 2008-01-06 14:00:17 | Rating: | Views: 121
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NICE! Excellent writing...loved the poem...
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Posted by wlamebull
on 2008-02-23 10:12:58
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