Poems from Rawice

I know a waitress who’s hair is yellow. Her style and temperament seem so mellow Like most blonds who serve behind a counter She endures...
I am mere  matter, formed by some genetic code from my fathers pallet A copy of my long forgotten fore fathers chromosomes and genes Some...
One morning, I happened on a divided path in a yellow wood Then realized it was like the one where Robert Frost once stood I stopped and...
This is to be preformed as a slam holding a black stick,  as a prop.   I would like to introduce you to Mr. Stick. His girlfriends call him...

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