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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 03-June 07:00:38 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 56135
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Grand Central
[time] => 2004-07-14 09:31:03
[hometext] => It's the little things.
[bodytext] => A life pulls out of the station. On its maiden voyage, its respiration starts at last, the furnace blasts, and motion starts, this beating heart heads for light. And it's a fight. The engineer gives it all he's got, the train it hurdles, red and hot. It's almost through, near the end, its destination, around the bend. It bursts through suddenly, whistle blowing, suspended in air, wheels still going, the conductor exclaims with unbridled joy, Congratulations, it's a boy! [comments] => 2 [counter] => 153 [topic] => 43 [informant] => CodyJ [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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