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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 13-June 00:07:16 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 4778
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Hit
[time] => 2002-10-08 16:00:00
[hometext] => a poem , not so much about death as about being betrayed by a friend
[bodytext] => My body stiffens and starches at the recoil,
Striking a petulant pose to any casual observer, Till a vacant lethargy balms as the eyes roll, Fascinated at the last by the tiny puckered opening, That almost seems to be winking, Giggling and gurgling to kid me it’s only a joke, While the dead flat beat of a dying pulse Fountains and foams as it spews me out So pretty, a red lake lapping on snowy shores. I’ll never get that blouse clean again! Didn’t see it coming, did you? The perfect hit. The assassin’s trademark. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 153 [topic] => 22 [informant] => melis [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => LostLove )
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