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poetry scroll 1

Blimey


Bly me 
blow me
get to know me

Alice
in the palace
running amuck

Hammers
where sighs
flaps and buckles
out out she cries

Hosed the rose
I suppose
death
at its whisper

Everyday
gets crisper and crisper

Forsooth! be gone
weariness
bleariness,
bring it on!

Gains the wind
gets the bulge on
all that nithers
the fat feeds on

Slant
sweet crucible -
never more
never more
repent the dawn.

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