quiet, i'm hunting rabbits.

quiet, i'm hunting rabbits.

A Poem by Boyd Johnson

 

her hair whispered

you can wake up

to this

 

every morning.

 

if


you just keep quiet.

 

cause if this goes bad,

it goes bad for everyone.

 

 

shut your mouth,

and let me come and go

as I please,

and ill let you wake up next to me.

 

don’t you enjoy being a kept man?

 

trust me.

its easier this way.

© 2008 Boyd Johnson


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Added on February 29, 2008

Author

Boyd Johnson
Boyd Johnson

the great and oft forgotten north of nyc. poughkeepsie., NY



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a freak. an outlaw. a hot piece. -j.m. a hometown boy who loves the hudson, his drink, and his hat. hiding under the train tracks, with a bottle of irish moonshine, toasting to it slipping thro.. more..

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