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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 15:54:09 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 142912
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => In Crate
[time] => 2008-06-03 04:18:33
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I am grateful that you up And put me in a crate, tied me in a name, And, if a little tentatively, sent me to the market, Whereupon they yelled: “Hark, it Speaks in its box!” Speaks all it can afford -- A few lashings out in hyperbolic spurts And even through its teeth It flirts, it flirts! Among the loud, drunken crew, I huddled by the purse I drew Upon my lips which nearly frowned -- Their speakeasy interest underground. Unwrapped I was next to squashing bards Brushing off shards of what life discards. I could tell each fellow was a dilettante In women and poetry; for, the font Upon their crates was so lazy and loose, Dreary and blurred where rains sluice. From a variety of exotic travels, This cursive feasibly unravels. And I am stopping at the factory, Where facts of grim are oft turned out. My stymied curls spill out the crate – The intransigence of the trait. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 213 [topic] => 64 [informant] => screwge [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
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