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the poetry dialogue

A game of words and beauty played out across the intarweb.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Two Ripe Peaches

sat in summer heat
with little umbrellas
and big
margaritas,
shootin' the shit

and defying the sun.

They thought they were smart, but
as it goes and it goes
the sun burnt 'em
and bruised 'em 'til mush,
to make his dinner guests peach margaritas.
Posted by Anonymous at 8:32 PM

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      • Got the Time?
      • Short, Short Story #1
      • Suggestion Box
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      • Struggle
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      • Who's Askin?
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