August 2010
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The fisherman
the fisherman throws his net sat home when he eats he sits alone he lights a candle on the table his plate is round as the moon he peels the skin of his fish with his fork and knife peeling it back like a bedsheet he is always awake before the sun the fish they do not sleep long sometimes at night when he has been drinking heavily he goes to the rocks at the shore and reads to the fish he reads to...
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I want to know all the names you’ve given your desires.
I want to find my name...
– —-derrick brown
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Self portrait
There were knives that got stuck in the words where i came from. Too much time in the back of my words
I pulled knives from my back and my words. I cut trambones from the moment you slipped away.
I’ve been lonely for a long time now. Watch me smile about it.
This self portrait is from the time i cried so hard my throat locked out all the noise.
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You are definitely the best part of my day.
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