Best Poem of w.c. Gosnell

Our Old Friend
We return once again
to meet our old friend,
the familiar,
vacant desert.
If she is in a rare mood
she may cough up
a bone or two as a random present.
But experience has taught us that
the desert is thrifty with its rare bones,
only giving one up every thousand
years or so. . . .
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Feek Invasion In Minskoffa
The village is being
invaded announced the
town crier Alonzo as he ran
across the top of the dike at
the far western end of the
Village of Minskoffa.
What is the problem Alonzo
asked the tired old match girl
lying on the broken bench in front
of the dried up fountain.
The market place . . .
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