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Poetry Corner

You walk your heart savagely
Along the beach, like a pet
abused by the trivia of passion
and the blistered claws of a sun
caged in its zenith, losing
ambition day by day. At your heel
It turned sand bleached white

Like an albino toad, a sick
pumping agate. Dogs follow

Cautiously for what you have.

It curls in the quick fog
Off the lagoon, dragging
a curtain of salt sting.

It insists to you.
It risks any exposure
In time, finally resting
As my feet take the waves, it braces
Its tubes to my wrist like a watch,
Its pulse lighting digits of severed blood,
smaller than a landlord's practiced tears.

- Jim Carroll, My Pale Skin
 
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