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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 14:31:36 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 89894
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => II
[time] => 2005-04-04 20:12:12
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => You be the lion and I’ll be the stillbirth, Phlegmatically screaming, “Soli deo gloria!” That will be an infecting puss of decisions, Marked in the footfalls of our tangent, Until we can manufracture our prayers, To the point where they taste like sunrise. Eclipsing themselves into an angry womb, They will pant in a homicidal eloquence, That hoarses out suggestions, bellowing, “There should be blood on these walls.” All the while, being far to obedient, To our masochistic cries for help. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 211 [topic] => 64 [informant] => savingmarion [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => ambiguous )
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