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2012-08-01T13:15:10-07:00August 1st, 2012|Musings on life|

The underwriter

It could have been the day
that a poem wouldn’t come
when insurance adjusters
bullied her imagination
into a corner
but art lies dormant
in her eyeballs
paper floats
like crow feathers
policy could be a pretty girl’s name
and who is this underwriter anyways
who lies beneath her bed
penning all those
strange dreams.

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