It’s a staunch regard,
The native son,
He waxes and wanes on your thorn,
On your gun.
Be ready for his look
over the sidewalk
Brainy and a boisterous lividity
leaks out his skin
into your mind.
Robin Wyatt Dunn writes and teaches in Los Angeles. He’s online at
robindunn.com and fb.com/settdigger .
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