Rustick
September 3, 2010, by Homme De Sept-Iles
boots, leather, bolted blade beneath the furnace metal, an oven for a cabin hornbeam Mi’kmaq sticks
rustic, you smile, in your soft, yellow living room
jean brownbill glasses
“don’t you like them?”
paintpeel brick, white
a tooth pulled sans novocaine [what’s that?]
to the poor there is nothing glamourous about poverty
skates were heavier then,
smiles wider
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