Dream Way Back

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
coping with a fatal disease

Submitted: June 30, 2007

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Submitted: June 30, 2007

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Dream Way Back



Who said anything about a throne?
A dead king or crying queen?
This stiffness this tremor is my own
Till this dirt flesh washes clean

And weeping dies with king's queens
I have no need to dream back through
Or to wash flesh from dirt clean
This quaking homeland will do

I may need to dream back through
For you see, you can't see it hit
The quaking this homeland will do
This dance is held in a garden of shit

You see (for you cannot see it hit)
Sullen goddesses in immodest bodices
Steal a dance in a garden of shit
With the loving fates and their apprentices

Immodest goddesses sully their bodices
But this stiffness this tremor is my own
The fuck with fates and their apprentices
Who said anything about being thrown?



By R P Webster

February 25, 2007


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