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Kickin' splits, I see the sitting
stance of protest, silent
reverences to the truth
Prolific, I sat in the streets
of New York City, Kansas, San Fran and the Bay,
with every multitude of places between
not singing, though my tongue dances
fitfully with the poetry
You've got to let your feet
caress the streetside along the way,
see the protest effusively cry lament
and deliberate on the atrocious ways
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