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Abstract

id="0deb">Breezy words come to ach</p><p id="369a">The soul so</p><p id="cbaf">To no longer spit</p><p id="5181">Pernicious lies</p><p id="9c75">Till the rafters came in</p><p id="7deb">By the morn over the next</p><p id="ba21">Hush me and cut this next.</p><p id="ebab">For this man is an indolent of his own sex.</p><p id="1847">Jeering ever are the eyes positioned to see all —</p><p id="ed3d">Ever are they there, it so seems to this fevered brow.</p><p id="2023">All the sexless forms to shape —</p><p id="bce8">At Night’s rest, the leastways are certainly golden</p><p id="57fd">Bridled to the retrieving dawn</p><p id="bbe8">At Night’s rest — At Night’s rest.</p><p id="3bf5">I’m bereaved no longer</p><p id="8edc">For he is at rest — disgraced he may so be</p><p id="f33e">He is at rest, and there can be no further</p><p id="dbaa">Embarrassment to base him ever on his sex —</p><p id="0eb3">Soul-be-filled for the <i>Philistines</i>!</p><p id="5b06">COME <b><i>ALONG WITH THE <a href="https://medium.com/@joanieadamms/subscribe">DOCTOR’S NEWSLETTER</a></i></b></p><figure id="ce5f"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*HYj5WzRswyOPe0UubzuarQ.jpeg"><figcaption><b>Katharine Hepburn — <a href="https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Katharine_hepburn_woman_of_the_year.jpg">Woman of the Year</a></b></figcaption></figure><p id="d67e"><b><i>MUSCLED TO BRAWN — JOURNEYMAN’S POEMS:</i></b></p><div id="f54f" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/muscled-to-brawn-journeymans-poems-404bbcf8b148"> <div> <div> <h2>Muscled To Brawn — Journeyman’s Poems</h2> <div><h3>A Laden Heart To Sweaty Chests, Brings All Up

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At Night’s Rest — Journeyman’s Poems

Jeering ever are the eyes positioned to see all — ever are they there, it so seems to this fevered brow.

Francisco Goya — Mujeres riendo

At Night’s rest, the leastways are certainly golden

Bridled to the retrieving dawn

His Mistress flaps his flopping

To mark his infertility

Shaking the Stock

Man Mocked By Two Women

Tender cast

At night’s rest, the equity is shaking till the rack

Is nigh over a ruin

That’s okay — prays his tenderized lot

Man flaps his sex against the viles of the night

In seduction and seduce to the liquids

Which make him

Pray over ruin

Pray over nigh

A tender pulp

A tender cast

Ever-watching him until, the climax

Unto his exercised death, dare could take he

Dare could say of him

Ever-watched — ever-watchable on

Did you hear that gasp

For what is being said?

The night is bizarre and

At Night’s rest, the belaying heart

Prays wildly to what blisters it so —

Pray upon a craggy soul

At Night’s rest, the stark oranges’ and the

Breezy words come to ach

The soul so

To no longer spit

Pernicious lies

Till the rafters came in

By the morn over the next

Hush me and cut this next.

For this man is an indolent of his own sex.

Jeering ever are the eyes positioned to see all —

Ever are they there, it so seems to this fevered brow.

All the sexless forms to shape —

At Night’s rest, the leastways are certainly golden

Bridled to the retrieving dawn

At Night’s rest — At Night’s rest.

I’m bereaved no longer

For he is at rest — disgraced he may so be

He is at rest, and there can be no further

Embarrassment to base him ever on his sex —

Soul-be-filled for the Philistines!

COME ALONG WITH THE DOCTOR’S NEWSLETTER

Katharine Hepburn — Woman of the Year

MUSCLED TO BRAWN — JOURNEYMAN’S POEMS:

The Curation; Our Publication:

A THOUGHT TO THE ROAMERS:

As ever, Dear Reader.

Poem
Poetry
Goya
Classics
Sex
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