Lady resting next to fence of PS 41 in Greenwich Village


Parted thoughts. Cut threads.

Fell out of bed. Flecked off the sleeve.

Halted feelings, masked by words.

Real concerns, unwashed by deceit,

Not yet detoured by conceit.

Unruled streets paving the mind.

Intersect. Disperse.

Carter B. Horsley

Next Poem: Between

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