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Le Prematin

I wish these birds would shut up

It's not even five in the morning

I could always close my window
And succumb to the sweltering heat
Or turn on the fan and suck my throat dry
While I pile on the blankets anyway
And stew in my own sweat.

This is the type of day where
You're caught off guard
When night pulls down its pants,
Revealing the ugly crack of dawn.


John Ejaife II

This poem is appearing in the Book
Spinning About Three Axes

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