Don't write much. This is an older piece.


Morning at the favela



Vodka breakfast saw the sun
long before the bay's wild water
twinkled in the long hot wind
rolling thin salt up the hill.



Poetry by Bob
Read 708 times
Written on 2012-07-19 at 12:29

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Peter J. Kautsky
I can see this painting of despair. Does this have anything to do with a favela in Rio de Janiero?
2012-08-12