| Mathew Abuelo - Poetry |
Dexter House What you let through that door what sniffs at the wrong side of the door the winds of need never break with a claw in your prostate and shards of the Dexter house penetrating your words that we spit onto the pavement 4 stories below. From our 13 by 9 foot room we hear the news through the air shafts with dirty windows that hide the end of the seasons. Here the patron saints live among the Roach's and between the lines of the great American drama where even doves fly on hawk's wings |
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