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Rabusongu


by Samuel Derrick Rosen


Before immortal fire flowers
and inescapable splashes,
people converse in tongues,
I grow averse to statues,

pretend I'm living in Japan,
conducting a passionate romance
with a Geisha girl
in a bourgeois ghetto,

my hands tightly clasped,
my knees slightly bent,
an unadulterated clown
perpetually out of makeup.
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