SHOULDER MY BURDEN
BOZ SCAGGS
Bring my arms to rest, for I should not
be here. The places I left before did not
compare : left-handed Goddesses
watching, and all those children of
the small-fire gardens on hand. The
guidebook says 'Paradise' but I cannot
get in. Oh rid me of my fallacies then,
for I am sickened, and running down.
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