… and not a single one said anything

of what he had was his, but all things

were in common.


The four winds are none

all equal and they blow hard

sometime. And they did. And you

got hammered to the letter

branded with the irony

being that it was you

who knew the real folk

who worked the un real

city by the water

whose cracked and worn hands

pulled real fish from the oh

so very real ocean.

Queen of Clubs - Vincent Ferrini
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