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brianmugere

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Bronze Poet

General’s Daughter

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In studio window,

I see a sight…

She shakes and twists to a tune I can’t comprehend.

The rhythm of her motion tells me its a sweet tune

That I and Her could intimate-one step-two step to…

Damn, I love her hair,
that oily mass down her neck…

I am pacing about the window seals,

Drooling over what an Angel!

I am wishing she could slip a dangle about my side…

But,

In the middle of my wishful castles,

A hollow voice…

(what are you drooling at young man? We don’t entertain idlers here about! Understand?!)

I am taken by surprise

Shrinking at the condescending fellow.

My eye meeting his at once.

He wears a grey-black combat and holds a gun.

(He wears a mean face, and I am short, epileptic.)

“Yes, ye, xe, ye, yes sir.”

Taking my leave as I step back step by step.
I didn’t miss the five stars on his collar.

Baby, you didn’t tell me your dad’s gards watch you everywhere…

Or, was that the general?!





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