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Wrinkle, Wrinkle

By Joseph Krausman

Wrinkle, wrinkle, little star 

jailed by virus, it's bizarre.

Hang in there, if you can,

one life only, little man.


Wrinkle, wrinkle,  little guy,

Look! so fast time floats by.

Know  that some day you will die,

on the road to earth or sky.


Wrinkle, wrinkle, little skin,

death forgets, what has past.

When you go out, you're going in.

Go in peace, rest at last.

Joseph Krausman

MCA Fellowship in Playwriting at Smith College, MA from Smith College, MFA from UMASS, Advanced Hebrew Studies at Oxford University.
Taught in the Theater Department at Grinnell College in Iowa and Playwriting at UMASS in Amherst.


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