john mann poems

smoke 'em if you got 'em

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Posted on May 19, 2013 by johnmannpoems
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Who’s Been Sleeping in Your Bed, Mr. Mann?

Overnight, the flesh changed.
The body turned alien.
It is someone else.
Face, where do you roam?
Who is that sitting down
to breakfast? Picking
up the phone with odd
hands? Swearing oaths
to different gods.
The voice, too, what does
it say? And the eyes,
lasering dark clouds.

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