En.Citatepedia^®.ro

After the Munich Putsch..

After history
something to do
with the Munich Putsch

in 1923
and going out
on to the school

playing field
Rolland said
That hot lips chick

is waving to you
from the outer fence
and so off you went

leaving Rolland
to go kick ball
with others on the field

and as you strolled
towards Christina
she came towards you

leaving her giggling friends
behind and met you
half way on the field

and said
I dreamed of you last night
her voice floated

around you
for a moment or two
and you saw across

her shoulder
Rolland head the ball
towards the goal

between two jumpers left
on the ground
then looked back at her

standing there
bright eyed
with her dark brown hair

and you said
Did I behave?
And she took your hand

and walked you across
the field slowly
and replied

Of course you did
Oh good
you said

wishing you could
have shared her dream
making it your own

she squeezed your hand
and said
Do you dream of me?

Yes
you said
Most nights

trying to make the lie
convincing you dramatized
a scene that never happened

and she smiled
and laughed
and you noticed

out of the corner
of your eye
Rolland kicking the ball

goal ward and waving
his hand then
having reached

the boundary of the field
at the wood's edge
she kissed you

on the cheek and said
I'm glad you dream
of me as well

and smiled
and lay her head
upon your arm

and soon you knew
the bell would ring
for end of play

and maybe
you thought
smelling her perfume

and shampooed hair
kissing her head
you might

dream of her
for the first time
tonight.

poem by Terry Collett
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Branded By Hot Lips

Christina sat crossed legged
on the grass of the school playing field

her friends got up and left
as you arrived after school lunch

where's your friend Rolland?
she asked

gone off with Woolgar
to play football

you replied
she patted the grass

beside her
why don't you sit down?

she said
so you sat down beside her

looking at her dark brown hair
brushed so so

and her green summer dress
just covering her knees

the black shoes
and white ankle socks

completing the picture
as if your eyes

had mentally painted her
for later reference

she leaned forward
and kissed your forehead

a damp patched
the size of her lips

remained there
she said

something to remind you
of me afterwards

while you're sitting
in class doing boring history

or geography or whatever
thanks

you said
actually it's maths

which is even more boring
so the kiss memento

will come in handy
she laughed and looked away

you spotted Rolland
over the way

standing in a goal
between two coats

Cedric can see us out here
she said

breaking the brief silence
why does it matter

if your brother can see us?
Will he tell your parents?

she shrugged her shoulders
don't suspect so

she said
you gazed at her lips

as she spoke
and her hands on her knees

just laying there
palms down

he does watch us though
she said

maybe he's jealous
maybe he wants to sit here with me

you said
she laughed

don't be silly
she said

and you moved
towards her

and kissed her lips
and she pulled you

nearer to her
with one of her hands

behind your neck
and you smelt

lavender water
and her hair brushed

against your cheek
and when your lips

left hers
they felt branded

as if hot coals
had been there

and she said
that was wonderful

and over her shoulder
across the way

Rolland had let in
a goal as his stretched

out hand
missed the ball.

poem by Terry Collett
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What Cedric Said About His Sister.

Cedric followed you
around the playground
at high school

it seemed he wanted
to say something to you
but instead he just followed

you around until
as you stood looking over
at the playing field

where kids were gathering
in their break period
he said

my sister likes you
how do you know?
you asked

because she told me
he replied blushing
looking over at the playing field

isn't she your twin?
Yes
he said

going red
gazing at his sister
standing with a group

of friends on the field
you looked over at the girls
at Cedric's sister waving a hand

so that's Christina
yes
he muttered

the one with the dark hair
and waving a hand
then he went silent

and looked at you
Mother said she's too young for boyfriends
he said after a few moments

but she doesn't listen
she does what she wants
so she told me to tell you

she likes you
and so you nodded
and waved your hand

back at the girls
and there was an explosion
of giggling and laughter

and waving of hands
and then they ran off
onto the field

and as they ran off
you noticed Cedric's sister
had a cute butt

but you didn't tell him that
you just turned and said
fancy a game of ball?

and he just nodded
and said nothing more
about his sister at all.

poem by Terry Collett
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The Phone Gift

Cedric gave you a photograph
in the playground
making sure no one

was looking his way first
Christina said to give you this
he said

you took the photograph
and gazed at a picture
of a girl laughing

with dark hair
looking at the camera
in mid pose

thanks
you said
putting the photo

in the inside pocket
of your jacket
she said she'd meet you

on the playing field lunchtime
Cedric informed
unimpressed

ok thanks
you said
to Cedric's departing back

at lunchtime
after eating your sandwiches
and fruitcake

your mother had made
and the watered-down juice
you went to the playing field

and looked for Christina
amongst the hordes
of boys and girls

basking in the sun
or playing ball
then hands covered your eyes

and a voice said
guess who?
you said

Marilyn Monroe?
the hands left your eyes
and Christina said

no it's me
and she stood there
her eyes almost feeling you

as they moved over you
did you get my photo?
she asked

yes it's in my pocket
you said
don't show it to others

she said
I'll keep it under my pillow
you said

I sneaked it out
while no one was looking
this morning

she informed
I'll be for it
if they find out

she said
when was it taken?
you asked

last summer
she said
when I was 12

you don't look 12
in the photo
you said

do I look 13 now?
she asked
she grabbed your hand

and walked you across
the playing field
not waiting

for your reply
you wondered if Goldfinch
or Rolland were watching

while kicking ball
Goldfinch said girls
were an alien race

and best steered clear of
at best ignored
she stopped on the edge

of the playing field
where a small woods
formed the boundary of the field

and looking back
towards the school
some distance away

she whispered in your ear
you'll see just how 13 I am
in that woods one day

and you gave a sigh
noticing big puffy clouds
in a bright blue sky.

poem by Terry Collett
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Cedric's Message.

Cedric approached you
in the playground and said
My sister Christina

wants to see you
on the playing field lunchtime
and he said it

in a quiet voice
as if he didn't want
the other boys to hear

he ran messages for girls
and off he went
to play with some other boys

leaving you to stare out
onto the empty playing field
and so lunch time

after you'd eaten dinner
you went onto the playing field
beneath the summer sun

and there she was
over by the wire fence
waiting for you

and you said
Cedric said you wanted to see me
and she said

Yes do you mind
if we walk off alone together
I don't want other's ears

to move in on our conversation
No sure
you said

Let's go over by the woods
by the far fence
and so you walked off with her

across the playing field
by other kids who were playing
football or sitting talking

or playing skip rope
or whatever
and when you came

to the woods
you sat down with her
and she said

You do love me
don't you?
I mean you're not

seeing anyone else?
You looked across
the playing field

to where you'd sat
with another
some months before

and she had asked
the same question
but since then

it had turned
momentarily sour
Yes and no

you said
looking back at her
taking in her dark hair

and deep eyes
and how her hand
lay on her thigh

covered by grey skirt
and her naked knees
just visible

to the eye
What do you mean
yes and no?

she asked
you watched
her lips move

and replied
Yes I love you
and no I'm not

seeing another
and she smiled at you
and put her hand on yours

and waited for a kiss
and so you did
her lips on yours

out by the woods
on that summer day
out of doors.

poem by Terry Collett
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To Greet, Meet And To Brag

My eyes never left the ball.
Afterall...
I became disciplined to keep my focus on it.
And when I joined on the field with others,
Who made claims they came with aims to play...
In a way to prove with me they could complete.
My eyes never left the ball to reach.

My eyes never left the ball not at all.
And when it was thrown in the air others stared.
But my eyes were right there to catch it...
To run with it and score a goal.
I came on the field prepared to win.
Not to say I just came to play.
Like others who came just to huddle.

My eyes never left the ball. afterall...
I did not come to greet, meet nor to brag,
With embellished exaggerations...
Of what I could do or had done in my past.
My eyes never left the ball...they couldn't.
And I was there on the field to win not pretend,
I came just to play to socialize and go away.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sports Day 1962

It was sports day
at high school

and the field and tracks
were crowded with

teachers and kids
and the sun was out

causing sweat
and heat rash

and Reynard said to you
that girl who fancies your ass

is waving to you
over by the small wood

of trees and bushes
so you looked over

and saw Christina
waving a hand at you

leaping up and down
her short gym skirt

rising and falling
as she leaped

showing off
now and then

her dark green panties
mind she don't eat you

Reynard said
and walked off

to watch the races
as you wandered over

to where she stood
at the edge

of the small wood
don't you look

the sexy beast
in your black shorts

she said
eyeing you over

her right hand smoothing
down your white tee shirt

are you running?
she asked

yes a short sprint
you replied

anything more than that
and I'm buggered

she looked at the field
holding her hands

in front of her
and you gazed

at her white legs
and white ankle socks

and black plimsolls
I'm in the relay race

she said
I‘ll have to watch

to see when my turn comes
then she turned to you

and said
have you been inside the wood?

you looked behind you
no not so far have you?

yes we went there
in science looking for bugs

and such
she said

maybe you could show me
you said

what?
bugs and flowers

and butterflies
you replied

she smiled at you
maybe but teachers might be watching

or other kids or prefects
and what if my brother Cedric

sees us enter
and tells my parents?

just a science tour
to see all nature's gifts

you said
tell them that

if any see us go
and you watched her

fumble with her fingers
looking around the field

and whispered softly
no.

poem by Terry Collett
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The Gunners Dream?

Floating down through the clouds
Memories come rushing up to meet me now
In the space between the heavens
And in the corner of some foreign field
I had a dream
I had a dream
Goodbye max
Goodbye ma
After the service when youre walking slowly to the car
And the silver in her hair shines in the cold november air
You hear the tolling bell
And touch the silk in your lapel
And as the tear drops rise to meet the comfort of the band
You take her frail hand
And hold on to the dream
A place to stay
Enough to eat
Somewhere old heroes shuffle safely down the street
Where you can speak out loud
About your doubts and fears
And whats more no-one ever disappears
You never hear their standard issue kicking in your door
You can relax on both sides of the tracks
And maniacs dont blow holes in bandsmen by remote control
And everyone has recourse to the law
And no-one kills the children anymore
And no-one kills the children anymore
Night after night
Going round and round my brain
His dream is driving me insane
In the corner of some foreign field
The gunner sleeps tonight
Whats done is done
We cannot just write off his final scene
Take heed of the dream
Take heed

song performed by by Pink Floyd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My soccer team

I see men standing next to each other
in a line
and they wear yellow and green.

The national anthem plays
and its like nobody honours it
or know the words,
but maybe they are caught by the great moment.

The whistle blows
and the ball is kicked to and fro
and there are men attacking
and others that defend.

The goal is open
and the ball flies past in a wide arc
and it’s as if my team
can’t score any goal.

The opponents have the ball
and shoot it right over the field
and one of their front players
hits it with his head.

The ball flies twisting
and with a swing in the air
and is accurately aimed at the goal

As from the ground
the goalie rises
and the onlookers are silent
and just before it’s too late,
the ball is caught
and the crowd cheers.

It is as if something sweeps into
the men with yellow and green
and they play perfectly,
like only a good team can.

There’s passion to win
and the ball is passed
from player to player
and a mighty kick,
launches it accurately past the goalkeeper
to get entangled in the net.

The crowd cheers and go nuts
and vuvezelas are blowing
and flags are swept to and thro
and the players grab each other.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Christina and You and Home for Lunch

As you went by
the girl's playground
after getting off

the school bus
Christina called to you
through the wire fence

and said
my mother said
you can come home

for lunch today
if you like
ok

you said
where shall I meet you?
Cedric will bring you along

she said
and so when
the lunch time

recess bell rang
you followed Cedric
out of the school

and saw Christina
by the outer fence waiting
are you sure

your mother doesn't mind?
you asked
of course not

she said
Cedric walked on in front
leaving you and Christiana

to walk on behind
she talked about some girl
in her class who had a boyfriend

and claimed
to have had sex
and then she went on

about the teacher
who had been expelled
for taking pupils home

in his lunch hour
it was boys though
she added

and then you came
to her house
and she took you in

and there was her mother
in the kitchen
nice to meet you

she said
Christina has talked
about you so much

Cedric behind
his mother's back
was making gagging gestures

with his fingers
down his throat
Christina looked at you

and smiled
nice to be here
you said

are you sure it's all right
me coming?
of course it is

Christina's mother said
now sit down
and I'll serve up for us all

and so you all sat down
around the table
and Cedric looked at you

then looked down
at his knife and fork
and Christina said

glad you're here
and she put a hand
over yours

and gave your hand
a squeeze
then removed it

when her mother
set down the plates
and then sat down herself

and you all began to eat
in an unusual silence
Christina giving you

a bright eyed stare
and Cedric looking
over your shoulder

as if you weren't there
after lunch their mother
cleared the table

of plates and went off
and Cedric went
into the lounge

leaving you and Christina alone
what do you think?
she asked

about what?
you asked
my mother

what do you think of her?
she seems nice
you said

she gets depressed a lot
Christina said
but today

she was at her best
oh right
you said

sorry she gets depressed
come on
Christina said

I'll show you my room
you raised your eyebrows
won't your mother mind?

you asked
not if she doesn't know
Christina replied

isn't it a bit risky?
you said
yes

she said
that's what makes life
so interesting

so you followed her
and tiptoed up the stairs
and she showed you

her bedroom
and her favourite doll
and other favourites of hers

lined along her bed
then she kissed you quickly
and then stood back

and smiled and said
best go down now
or she'll wonder

where we are
and so that was it
and as you followed her

down the stairs
you could hear the radio
playing some classical music

and her mother
humming along
and sounding quite happy

and Christina giving you
another kiss
behind her mother's back

and after saying thank you
to her mother
you all left

to return to school
the clouds promising rain
and so back to school

and the boring lessons
once again.

poem by Terry Collett
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Let Me Play Football

Let me run on the field
Of a crowded football stadium,
The ball is sticky to my leg,
Let the opponent’s defenders to come.

Let me head the ball with full force,
When my team player does a corner kick,
I want to place the ball in opponent’s net,
That’s an honour more than climbing Everest’s pick.

Let my team’s footballers hug me,
When I score a world class goal,
And I shall preserve my supporters’ celebration
Forever in my golden soul.

poem by Biswajit Ganguly
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Number Eighteen

She, s real tough and lean
her number is eighteen
when it comes to soccer
she, s no talker
its in her soul
to make another goal
when she, s on the field
she plays hard and doesnt yield
it was such joy
to see her take the ball from a big boy
when she kicked the ball
it soared past them all
without pause or toll
it went into the goal
she, s a little beauty queen
but on the field she, s real mean
she, s my little number eighteen

poem by Ernest Clary
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Love Field

You lie so unfolded
In a love field
With your contempt for any modesty
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
You yield with your lips still sealed
In a love field
Lost in a sea of imaginary women
Everything youd want
From the dawn to the dimming
Breath comes sharp and heart beats faster
In a love field
Cold ground for a pillow
Under a blanket of stars
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Headlights that startled
This embrace of hours
In a love field
In a crooked house
Where things can be arranged
You think youre different from the rest
But you dont see how youve changed
Under an archway
On a road of white linen
In a love field
Feel the anxious rhythm of a functional stranger
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Shes so tense but its never mentioned
In a love field

song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Waiting By The School Gates

Look who's over
by the school gates
Reynard said
and you looked over

and there was Christina
with her school bag
over her shoulder
and her hands tucked

in the pockets
of her green coat
see you tomorrow
Reynard said

and walked on
giving Christina a stare
as he did most girls
finding them an enigma

yet to be solved
when you got
to where Christina was
she took her hands

out of her pockets
and put a hand
on your arm
I wish I was going

on the school bus
with you
then I could sit next to you
and I could tell you

about myself
and not have to cram
everything into a rush
of words as I do

at school
you looked over
to where the school bus
was waiting

you still had
five minutes
or so before
it took off

and you knew
Fred the driver
always did
a head count

before hand
don't you wish
I was there
on the bus too?

she asked
squeezing your arm
with her fingers
you turned

and looked at her
sure I do
you said
but you live here

and I live miles away
I know
she said
and I miss you

once your bus goes off
and I know
I won't see you
until the following day

and the weekend is worse
because then
I don't see you
for two whole days

other kids
passing through
the school gates
stared at you both

and Hill said
come on
or you'll miss
the bus

and he laughed
and moved on
and Christina stared
after him and said

what's his problem?
and you said
oh he hasn't been born yet
he gets this way

and she laughed
and said
maybe I'll come
on the country bus

to your village
and we can meet?
sure that'd be good
you said

and her eyes lit up
and she smiled
and leaned
towards you

and gave your cheek
a peck
and you said
look I got to go

and you took her hand
and gave it
a quick kiss
then turned

and walked quickly
towards the bus
knowing her eyes
were following

your every step
and that maybe
she dreamed
of you at night

and imagined you
beside her
and her dolls
and Teddy Bear

and you in turn
maybe imagined
at night
you too were there.

poem by Terry Collett
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As You Walked One Summer's Day.

These lanes are very narrow
you said
walking with Jane

from the parsonage
where she lived
to where the farm road began

Are they?
she replied
I've never thought about it

just that the hedges are high
and the birds chock full
in them and their songs

Yes
you said
They are

and in London
there are no hedges
or narrow lanes

and the only birds
are sparrows
and pigeons

and you wanted
to take hold
of her hand

and squeeze gently
the flesh
and sense her pulse

but you didn't
you put your hands
in your jean pockets

and gazed sideways on
at her and her dark hair
and her profile

and the scent of her
like lavender
as if she'd dived

into a wide field of it
and embraced
the flowers and stalks

What bird song is that?
she asked
No idea

you replied
moving closer to her
the scent getting stronger

the desire to be closer
taking hold but still at bay
It's a blackbird

she said
You'll learn them all
the birdsongs

and where and how
they nest and in what months
and you nodded

and saw how
the summery dress
moved and swayed

as she walked
the flowered pattern
like a field moved

by a soft breeze
and her sandaled feet
touching the gravelled lane

and you thinking
how it would be
for them to be held

and kissed by you
if she were beside you
lying in a field

or in one
of those tall woods
and you pursed your lips

and she looked up at the sky
her eyes gathering
the blueness

and whiteness of clouds
and she said
Monet would have captured that so well

and You
you muttered
He would capture you well

each aspect
of your face
and hair and eyes

and she smiled
and looked at you and said
I'd want to be captured by Renoir

have his arthritic fingers
clutching brush
and capture me

and maybe secretly
lust after me
and she blushed

and turned away
and you thought
Oh yes yes yes

but said nothing
just gazed
and breathed in

her being
her beauty
all there

for you to view
the eyes
the hair

the profile
the way her lips smiled
and sway of walk

and the tall hedges
seemed to explode
with the wild bird's talk.

poem by Terry Collett
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Krishnakali

In the village they call her the dark girl
but to me she is the flower Krishnakali
On a cloudy day in a field
I saw the dark girl's dark gazelle-eyes.
She had no covering on her head,
her loose hair had fallen on her back.

Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelleeyes.

Two black cows were lowing,
as it grew dark under the heavy clouds.
So with anxious, hurried steps,
the dark girl came from her hut.
Raising her eyebrows toward the sky,
she listened a moment to the clouds' rumble.

Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.

A gust of the east wind
rippled the rice plants.
I was standing by a ridge,
alone in the field.
Whether or not she looked at me
Is known only to us two.

Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.

This how the Kohldark cloud
rises in the northeast in Jaistha;
the soft dark shadow
descends on the Tamal grove in Asharh;
and sudden delight floods the heart
in the night of Sravan.

Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.

To me she is the flower Krishnakali,
whatever she may be called by others.
In a field in Maynapara village
I saw the dark girl's dark gazelle-eyes.
She did not cover her head,
not having the time to feel embarrassed.

Dark? However dark she be,
I have seen her dark gazelle-eyes.

poem by Rabindranath Tagore
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precious

She fell asleep on my shoulder.
I could hear her breathing sound.
My shoulder was getting uncomfortable
but I would not shift around.
I couldn't see her face it seemed
and even if I could
I could not tell if she dreamed?

Maybe she was dreaming of way back when
she was twenty and I was twenty-two.
Could anyone dream that far back
or was her memory gone in her dream too?
Slowly she had drifted away from me
and all that we'd ever been
was no longer our reality.

The days were long. The nights were short
and the mornings were always the same.
I looked at her. She looked at me
and asked, 'What's my name? '
I smiled at her and answered 'Precious' my dear.
'Oh' she then would exclaim.

Each day had become a sorrowful scene
and the time had finally come
when I knew I could no longer care for her.
My emotions were completely numb.
I felt her move on my shoulder
and I knew she'd come awake.
I grasped her so I could hold her.

She asked me 'Where are we going? '
I told her we're going home.
And so our lives which had once been blessed
had finally come to rest.
No more would I feel the weight of her head
sleeping on my shoulder
and the days of my life became colder.

poem by Edwina Reizer
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The Big Kid and the Tall Tale

The big kid stood
by the garden shed
with others kids and you
the horticultural teacher

was down by the beds
with some other kids
whom he was showing
how to dig

and the big kid said
I had her
back there
up in those woods

at the end
of the playing field
the other kids
moved in closer

to get a better grip
on the tale told
you stood on
the perimeter

of the crowd
one eye
on the big kid
the other on the teacher

bent over a kid
showing him how
to hold a spade
and you know what?

the big kid said
she was some goer
the other kids
looked at him

then at each other
some plump kid
with spots laughed
you looked over

towards the woods
by the playing field
a quaint woodland
over by the fence

and near the road
and you know
what it's like? Huh?
the big kid said

the kids nodded
you noticed
their eyes large
and their tongues

at the corner
of mouths
it was like slipping
into a warm bed

the big kid said
on a cold night
the teacher made
his way towards

you and the kids
by the shed
the big kid
made gestures

with his hand
and the boys sniggered
half catching on
to the gesture's tale

the big kid's hands
went into pockets
out of sight
the other kids

moved towards
the teacher's
calling voice
you followed

unwillingly
having little choice.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hold Dear

Rolland didn’t like her
but he wasn’t in love
with her as you were
he never saw beyond

the skin and hair never
saw the inner beauty
the part that God or
some other deity put

there he’d sit with you
at the back of class in
school hands behind
his head acting like

Brando real cool and
you having her in your
sight remembering the
kisses and the feel of her

in your arms and she sitting
there in her school uniform
across the room looking
at you now and then with

a small smile and bright eyes
not knowing then that cancer
would have its grip on her
in some later year and take

away that aspect of her you
remember and hold dear.

poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Play The Field

Verse 1:
Loving can be simple
(find a guy, settle down)
Can it be so simple
(touch the sky, look around)
There is so much out there
(wait your turn, stand in line)
Theres a someone somewhere
(you will learn, you will find)
There is so much waiting for you
Listen here is all you must do
Chorus a:
Play the field
You gotta look around
Lovin is so real
Dont just settle down
Just play the field
And leave what is behind
Dont just make a deal
See what you can find
Verse 2:
If you want some loving
(youll be loved, many times)
Pushing comes to shoving
(and enough chance to find)
Come on stop your crying
(over one special boy)
Do a little lying
(have some fun, dont be coy)
Dont waste your life on a dream
Take it to the opposite extreme
Chorus a
Come on have some fun
Dont waste your life on a dream
Take it to the opposite extreme
Chorus a
See what you can find
Chorus b:
Just play the field
And let yourself go wild
Lovin is so real
Youre acting like a child
So play the field
Youre always on the run
Dont just make a deal
Come on have some fun
Bridge:
Play the field
On the run (on the run)
Make a deal
Have some fun
Chorus a
See what you can find
Chorus b
Chorus a
See what you can find
Chorus b
Play the field
Play the field
Play the field
(fade)

song performed by by Debbie Gibson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Then You're Not In This Game

Can you,
Really make...
The grade?
In the field
Of doing you to conquer.
Can you,
Take the ball...
Without falling?
And if you did,
Would you stall?
Or get up to make a stand.

Can you,
Minimize a brush with agony?
Or take a pinch or two,
Of self head beating?
Could you take a breath...
And keep on moving.
Beat your chest and let off steam?
Or would you find a way to demean.

Could you,
Get up and run in pain?
Would you give up your goals,
To claim...
Everything you try stays the same.

Can you,
Really make...
The grade?
In the field
Of doing you to conquer.
Would you stop to say its tough...
And what you've got,
Just ain't good enough.
Then you're not in this game to play!
'Cause you're looking for an easier way!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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