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title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Tauwan Patterson


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a Nightmare before Christmas

I don't know how I feel about that,

he shouted,


startling all passengers in the vicinity on the westbound train headed towards the sea.

Did they not see his cause for alarm?


Halloween.


Through the morning sun's golden hued rays that Southern California tree bore strange fruit, a Mummy, swinging loose in the southern breeze. An effigy for crows to pluck stirring within this witness a gathering of rain, thoughts of trees past, Black bodies as bitter crops

hanging,


holding his twisted mouth and bulging eyes.