Shirley Temple Blues

 

 

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A southern shotgun place

Bracing against mid-summer heat

Blunt Souls bypassing past wounds

Fostered by run-away fear

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Arbitrarily assembled decor

Taxing creaking Louisiana floors

Tattered hope curling in smokes

Raucous words revealing

Rapidly decaying protocol

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Poetic snippets chasing rhetorical puns

Firing up the inside of a home on the run

Evocative sounds unfurling Origami feelings

Reverberating from a bare ceiling

Baiting stunted air tenuously settling

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Unattended skins trapped in midday sun

Weathered past their prime

Semi-pristine dressed in a golden tint

A puff, a sigh, a guitar’s long-winded decline

Time slows to first gear leaving

In its wake covertly consumed fear

Guarding muted remains of a capsized dream

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Old-established couch

Timid light source on the prowl

The French Quarter flaunts its devastating appeal

A stubborn promise of literary brawn

 Baiting bohemian thought

Those stranded deeds

Victim to a moment's blinding stampede

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Prophetic words perversely dished out

Delivering uneasy versions

Of a past disguised in glorified demise

Events eloquently embellished

Pitifully erased and precipitously decried

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Addled assets of gloomy grandeur

Crowding this rundown domicile

Worn splendor stubbornly feeding

On a fetid life line

A love scattered by obtuse winds

Pierced by mosaic shards

 A memory best flung aside

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The power of self-loathing

Derailed by a fierce heart

Holding in its fertile womb

Father and daughter

Fugitive and artist

Entangled in an unseen solace of

 Tired wisdom, bitter and uncouth

 Redeemed by undaunted youth

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   A sidetracked destiny at last revealed

  Resting on love buttressing tired beams

   Trembling under complex pasts and sutured dreams

Cradling forever passion

Within scorched and nearly severed seams