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mr vibraphone

do you ever see people,
self-relegated to secondary life,
gods in silence?
those who control
and feign ignorance,
lead as though chasing?

i saw one, effaced, engrossed.
a beard before a beautiful portrait,
and every perfect muscle
shown through a wardrobe of endearing
false modesty.

he was an accessory to the
american set.
he made me a fag
and walked away.
for once i felt no shame.

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