by Lorri Primavera

January 25th, 2016

From a house of mental illness 

And a hearty forearm 

A town full of cleanliness and gloom

Raised up to expect fine print from friends

And dying to expect Elysian awakenings 

A fine boy all his youth

Saved the veal from the table

Was rewarded with loss of innocence 

And an early grave

And no hereafter 

And loveless.



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