FIVE POEMS BY PAUL CUNNINGHAM
Anyway, winter will soon cover
this dead leafy aroma
But will it be able to mask
the scent of blood?
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Anyway, winter will soon cover
this dead leafy aroma
But will it be able to mask
the scent of blood?
…
We all cope with anxiety differently
She is talking to her brother to calm him down
I am waiting for Romeo, the tree, to climb through my window
To be my makeshift dress for tomorrow
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You see it on the sidewalk. Itβs a wad of fuzzy stuff and red stuff. Itβs dry and flat and smashed into the concrete. Your brain registers it as an animal, but cannot figure out which one. Youβre three years old.
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i’m looking for Like-Minded Persons β to discuss all this β write in a Persona
bored with Porn, i went to the hairdresser and asked them if they could shape my hair in a way that would make my head look more like a Hamburger.
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I don’t think anyone should be made to watch themselves have sex. To see yourself mid-orgasm is a horrifying thing.
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