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How Far to Eastwood? By Steven Joseph McCrystal QuailBellMagazine.com Upon passing by my personal space - at any point of day You’ll see a stone-cold chiseled scowl adorn my sweet angelic face Not a hint, not a drop, not a breathe of me, escapes the mists of doom Some say I’m really dour, my love, some say I’m full of gloom Some say my face is stuck, my love, transfixed with resolutions Some say my face is broken with that look of retribution A dead pan poker face as straight as any crooked road That cherished look of toothache: the joys, I can always hear you goad A look that shouts, beat it, get lost, and go far, far, away, A look of indignation. A look of not today But maybe one day soon, my love, I’ll soak on something sweeter My heart will melt, my lips will split, and I’ll crack a smile that’s cuter #Unreal #Poetry #Homage #ClintEastwood #Imagery #Personality #Ekphrastic Visit our shop and subscribe. Sponsor us. Submit and become a contributor. Like us on Facebook and follow us on Twitter. CommentsComments are closed.
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