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poetry and prose by stephen chute
Tuesday, November 22, 2022
the slow boil
who hasn't
been
the cold frog in the pot,
comfortable
at first
in water pulled from
the tap,
the heat on low.
who hasn't been fooled
before with
arms behind your head,
resting easy,
and relaxed
before the water
boils,
and all is lost.
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the wide cold bed
no secrets are safe
the long walk home
who did this to me
the sinless world
the roses behind us
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guilty beyond a reasonable doubt
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putting the kettle on
Taking a Cruise
just another day
it's all part of it
watered down
with your name stitched
and then there's this
the staying part
purgatory
when the beauty parlors shut down
stalag 17
1977
seeing each tree
the strategy to leftovers
the self help dance
that kind of kind
how to carve a turkey
the line in the sand
it's never too late
train watching
i'd rather stick needles in my eyes
Mickey and Minnie
higher fences
waiting on a taxi
now strangers
seven days in Mexico
the overnight snow fall
licking the spatula
winning and losing
a mini sleep
just touching base
no longer missing
that's who she was
getting up
a good idea at the time
the beekeeper's daughter
back into the wild
the first look
things to do and not to do
say little
limping into bedlam
i hear other things
all these witches
the cornbread dilemma
love takes a turn
the new age stalkers
the wishbone
the slow boil
the ungodly hour
every breath we take
we got that M.D.
correction tape
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wanting to be wanted
open up the blue door
it's just a movie
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a sleeve of blue
saint sylvia
baby it's cold in here
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she values my opinion on fashion
another baby
one day they'll get it
unpainted still
what about me?
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detour up ahead
take one every nine hours
time to let it go
while writing a check
the Delray farmer's market
yard therapy
full service
she understands
going awol from the cubscouts
you need to upgrade
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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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