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ANNE's Opera

ANNE's Opera

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Published by Al
These poems followed the death of a woman I was involved with for 20 years, more than my marriage. Here are 3 film clips http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=3846775843061&set=vb.1088100630&type=2&theater#!/al.rosenberg.77The Opera lead to a short novel and then a screenplay. The first minutes on film can be seen on my Facebook page. The three clips total 2 minutes and 4 seconds.
These poems followed the death of a woman I was involved with for 20 years, more than my marriage. Here are 3 film clips http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=3846775843061&set=vb.1088100630&type=2&theater#!/al.rosenberg.77The Opera lead to a short novel and then a screenplay. The first minutes on film can be seen on my Facebook page. The three clips total 2 minutes and 4 seconds.

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Published by: Al on Jan 24, 2010
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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04/27/2014

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NIGHT IS OVER (Anne)Night is hereMy day has begunThe night is longI hate the sunAt night I workAnd my kids run me raggedall day long.Independent, self sufficientA modern wifeAnd I mean it.I won’t steal from my husband for my needsWhy should I borrow or beg,When I can spread my legs?
 
I do my work quickly,Keep my workplace clean,And fast,It keeps them coming back for more.Soft and pillowy,The neighborhood whore.But relax ladies,Men put away your wood,Yours is not my neighborhood.****************Strange in this placeTo hear the sounds that children makeWhoever brought them has made a mistake.The clatter of kids playing on a swingStrange are the feelingsChildren’s laughter brings.The dark and quiet of junkie parkHas been penetratedBy the noise of little boys.In this place to tie your armAnd shoot up in the dark.Where junkies have shotThe street lights out.********************Like a hound dog on the trailI can sense men looking for tailLike dogs circling in the hunt.Finding what they want, I put up no front.My radar can find the stiff 
 
On a body hid in a car trunkThe guy with kids is no john,I don’t need my radar on.A man with small kids fills me withAnxiety and suspicionBut it’s not my businessI’ll continue to my destination.But they are on my benchLater there I will liePleasing my customersOr after work getting high.Kids eating, spilling soda and gooAlong with infected blood spilt on there too.**********************************************HOOKER SONGCan I do a trick for you?An overcoat avoids the spatterDon’t spread herpes, do not kissWhat kind of life is this?In a mud swamp of diseasesQuickly on with the coatNot to seem eagerI have to make a quotaI pity the manAlone in the cityI sit on his lapHis shy hands get busyFor a moment he is not aloneIn the big cityFinding welcome in my home

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