Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #3                        Page 5
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a black plastic bag

blown by the wind

         looking like a small demented cat

         scurries across 2nd Avenue

         in front of the passing cars


used to be
and didn't know

it was a riff

a beautiful line

you had to be inside of


good by

can be a slap

that resonates forever

but I still talk to your memory

              Lisa Galt Bond