Zeb Smith
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wifeA Poem by Zeb Smithwifeafter Ada Limónhusband: throw out the noun. use the verb: use(resources) economically; con-serve. the truth is i am the stout black horseyo.. |
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Seeing ThingsA Poem by Zeb SmithAt twilight, we walk the three dogs in the park; our bulldog pees on the oak trees we pass, marks the same reeking trash can on the way back .. |
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FlowersA Poem by Zeb SmithMen don’t know much about flowers save a few names and their colors. My great-grandmother grew roses in oblong black beds out back,.. |
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PlottingA Poem by Zeb SmithIn your west garden I woke in deep violet your faint, still silhouette against the sunlit ivy. Were you coming or going? Churc.. |
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If You Could Read My MindA Poem by Zeb SmithWe are all in the gutterbut some of us are looking at the stars.- Oscar Wilde If you could read my mind you'd find me on this shore on.. |
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Her Name Was MaggieA Poem by Zeb SmithDawn is a strip of white gauze, yellowing like pus, through the oaks. A mourning dove coos on the power line. I go out, shoeless for a m.. |