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Poems

Good Shepherd


I drove by the yellow building

where my memories are held

they changed the name

as that part of me fades

until I’m dimmer than varnish

I once placed a piece of paper

on that yellow building, it read:

“Welcome to St John’s Concentration Camp”

An angry mother with shingles and sciatica

tore the loose leaf down

“Say no to me I know you want to”

I couldn’t respond when I was young

“Come on talk to me I know you want to”

You had the weight of Jupiter concave your skin

I commended your body

haven’t had much to brag about

misogynistic tendencies haven’t gone unnoticed

so follow me if you want to

2 replies on “Good Shepherd”

I understand. Some women are exceptional and to “see” them, you have to bang out a hole in the wall of misogyny. I know how you feel. Read me, in “about.”

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