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Trains in Passing A train blaring westward but Having no more lassos to Throw, no more west to blaze, no More buffalo or natives To trample. Only asphalt Breaks its stride—the wild is gone. Nevertheless, there are well worn Boots, buckles with flash and dusty Hats worn as are red wristbands By knee high kids that, though With admiration, lampoon Another’s toughness; so the Whistling train squeals its parody, And the wild-west lives on.

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BWOWP_WHITE01  

Black Words On White Paper is a unique literary journal, publishing poems and flash fiction that fit onto a single page. This is the premier...

BWOWP_WHITE01  

Black Words On White Paper is a unique literary journal, publishing poems and flash fiction that fit onto a single page. This is the premier...

Profile for bwowp
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