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poetry and prose by stephen chute
Sunday, December 20, 2020
small endings
the end, the final end,
is never
what you think
the end will be.
because there are
so many small
endings in between.
you
can't see
the future, but you can
feel it coming
like wind
upon your bones.
you know
it's not going to be pleasant
the longer
this goes on.
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new years eve
send me a memo
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untidy lives
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we all make mistakes
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what's it going to be
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next in black ink
red sauce
let's go camping
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fare thee well
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tap water
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raise the bar
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a hundred poems or more
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borrowed books
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something i remember well
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the marriage proposal
why isn't it everywhere
don't roll your eyes at me
around 2 p.m.
christmas snow
the dead santa
california time
the soundtrack
we dance all night
what isn't there
a summer peach
more important things
enough, enough of this life
the new is not so new anymore
the empty vase
come sit beside me
as the water freezes
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morning prayer
what is myrrh anyway?
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too early, i thought
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jiggle it
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have you heard the news
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scrambled eggs
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About Me
Stephen Chute
west springfield, virginia, United States
these are all FICTIONAL stories and characters and are in no way representative of any real experiences in my or anyone else's life. any similarities are purely coincidental, except for the dog poems.
View my complete profile
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