A Book of Poems I have no place to go except by foot I have no
secrets. In a listening ear Every sentence sounds what it's about
Just out of frame. As a photographer Can break hearts simply by
showing you young Handsome, strong, and on a mountain bike The band
plays and you wonder if the song Is one you heard before. An old
score reeks Of mildewed paper if not taken down To hear about love
or exotic lands To seek regret. You know where I am found In so
many words. Give me a hand
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