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poetry and prose by stephen chute
Tuesday, October 12, 2021
the first yellow leaf
the first yellow leaf
of wet
fall,
is a gem on the glass
of the window.
the veins a lost green,
but still
golden
as the light pours
through.
how can you not
believe that there is more
to this world
than me,
than you.
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the lone indian kid
the horror
tap dancing
living larger
a cold front moving through
the first date desire
strangely content
the moral dilemma
we are men, we fix things
green jello in the air
really, split pea soup?
wretched weather
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marriage counseling
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one cold cat
down to the bone
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opening the curtains
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the end of us
perfectly imperfect
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a house with roses
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the gourmet photos
Get out of the way, i can't see the tv
before leaving
a good month to be in love
loosening her Chico khakis
the alimony check
you seem tense
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use it sparingly
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Wiggly was like that too
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what has to be done
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you do go on, don't you?
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can i get a price check on this pineapple
then they make you grow up
you'll never find another love like mine
no loneliness quite like that
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this is what men do, he said
organic chips
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she used to stand right there
too bad for him
the ripple of us
when the moon fell apart
the summer vacation
down goes muffy
be like the blue cup
stay away
the wrong thing to do
kissing Fido
destiny calls
oh really, i write too
the orange poem
the blue light peel
a fresh pot of coffee
Hail Caesar
come on, let's go out
tired of the battle
the church restaurant
the early to rise morning
what about Amy
have you seen the blonde nurse yet?
moth into the light
our dearly departed
part A and part B
failed bread
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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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