Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #6                         Page 1
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is my mind’s mantra.
I have had enough
of your babble, your trivial
flattery that was never anything
but temporary bandaging at best.
I will dress myself each morning
in concrete. My body will be
a wall of reproach, your aggression
less than a raindrop of useless
penetration. Impossible
to touch, to breach, I will remain
stoic in my reticence. You will find
no arms, no openings
or welcoming mats familiar
with your name.

  A.J. Huffman