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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 19:58:06 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 106353
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Mortal Sin
[time] => 2005-09-24 03:39:33
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I never told God about that Wednesday afternoon when John Lea showed me where his dad kept the Penthouse magazines. “Remember to turn the water on. They can hear you,” he said. I huddled, faucet-running, in his bathroom and learned how to be evil. After I was done, John took his turn. I fell into the orange shag rug and listened to his little sister play Barbie in the next room. I stopped going to Confession to forget that basement bathroom, but I hear his little sister every time I wash my hands. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 184 [topic] => 44 [informant] => nosoup4crr [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Nostalgic )
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