Ten Cent June

Ten-Cent-JuneSteamy misbegotten suns
wind away the milky dawn
seek refuge
in petulant dances
of forgetfulness

Sink into dark honor
with promises of paradise
while pale fragrance
grits it’s teeth
against furtive desires

Vaunted words
describe callous intent
echoing empty compassion
of pop-music sodomy

She’s a whore
for the finer things
and knows how
to get them.

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john pavlovitz

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