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Steve and a Punk

STEVE AND A PUNK screaming in the street three of us had to pull him down to the ground where he lay hole in the head from a hot metal gun the cold was brutal his blood was warm we stared at him as if he were some rare flower blooming red puddles of petals Misty… she ran away Steve lit a cigarette and gave it to a punk diminishing perspectives blowing peripheral minds © Kim van Breda—30 November 2015

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Book: Shattered Sighs