WATER PIPE FILLS THE SOUL

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BARD'S SHARDS


Water pipe fills the soul

             with temporary relief

                  for all them pains

                          felt each night

 

Whistling songs heard

          on a portable radio

& stepping lightly along

       dangerous city streets

 

& day of reckoning

           has come upon us

hear us all the speech

          of these divine children

 

Oh, squalid days of yore—

         passages into night vision

in endless dream sequence

          we still carry the torch

 

 

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