I’ve been a member of several writing groups throughout eastern Long Island over a number of years. A portion of the works I used to submit during that period of time were quite intense—pieces wherein particularly, the last line of each poem packed a heavy-duty punch! As a result of writing such works I was affectionately dubbed “The Boxer Poet.” Perfectly exemplifying this manner of writing is the poetic presentation submitted in this week’s issue.
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My friend! My friend!
What curse-d ill
is torturing
you so?
She groaned
aloud
these chilling
words:
the blood that
stains
my soul!!!