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Monday, November 24, 2003

Carmody, Named 

Carmody,

You are one of them.
Named: associate.
Billed: violent.

Every line of your pore
is caught culture on tape:
cut, delete; edit: repeat.

You danced with bears
on stage at world's fair,
a picture for bumpers everywhere.

Every song oversung,
a mook as a hack,
chrome-mag attack.

I saw you on the bar that night:
you yanked long brown hair
while all the patrons stared.

Nab & I took notes in the back,
we gave looks and spoke tones;
they didn't drown out her moans.

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