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A Poem: Smoke 

Drinking rye in a dusty corner
she asked if I’d seen the movie Smoke.
I said I had.
With my father when I was 12 or 13.
Impossible she said it released in ’95
you’d have been 33.
I must’ve been mistaken.
I would’ve been too busy or cool
for the old man and a film.
He’s gone now.
I wished I had.
It was a hell of a movie.

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  • A poem by William Teets.

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