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June 29, 2016

Panic! At The Disco has 

A whole new rhythm now –

 

When alarm at such venues

Is warranted. Security

 

Tighter than your leather  

Pants, Brendon, or at Logan

 

Confetti guns and fake

Smoke, once harmless-

 

Seeming, really, now stir,

Even just a little, our

 

Own anxiety – is real.

 

Would you have chosen

This name after Pulse

 

And after Paris? You

Grumble when asked

 

The origins of your name,

But all know great care

Goes into the selection. 

 

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This is Poem #107 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

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