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Keith May
Poems
Nov 2013
long night
Standing
arms folded on the platform.
My tongue tastes like a long night
and my legs
stand on their own
and my lungs
feel like an oven.
I hold my tongue like my bladder
and the man with the cup
stands and shakes
and sings
on
the subway.
A crowded platform
means the train is coming.
Written by
Keith May
New York, NY
(New York, NY)
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Genna Negrin
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