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Playing ball
before I saw
what lay underneath a skirt
before I took
a hold of the first pipe handed over
grabbing the heated metal
knowing it had its place with me
long before I thought writing
had bearing on my soul
and before I thought
there is no god
there were a few times
that I knew days
were aiming to take me down
chop me down into
a few fine pieces
just waiting for the birds
to come along.
- joseph veronneau
