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Image for the poem  Bury Me Not In My Rip Van Winkle

Bury Me Not In My Rip Van Winkle

Death be me a hag, dark's seduction,  
of my mind's poetic inglorious  
and floor-shine shoes.
Standing in line at Dunkin' Donuts,  
when I could have done hearse,  
but bury me not in my Rip Van Winkle.  
 
Swatting green flies at my foreskin  
with a Saturday night fever.
Thinking I'm John Travolta,  
neath my dandified ascot,  
with rumors of a decaying corpse,  
but bury me not in my Rip Van Winkle.  
Written by PaleSkies
Published
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