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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 21:45:51 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 150931
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Kicked
[time] => 2009-06-22 12:57:16
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => What governs curves but oblong paisley eccentricities, names written wildly, biplanes up in the sky? The Wild West would lasso undulous shapes, materialize cacti in the air, so I think that oft-kicked spurs are more chastened than their linear stars. Curves: Women's intelligencia of breasts and fledgling temple shrines. But I think that man has some happy mastery as he makes across a neonate, depositing, perhaps, the most pristinely mellow curve of all, wishing that the container's temperament matched his chastened result. The baby kicks fervidly, without a warned reason, (Reasons would be surprised at their invocation within the nonsense), and the husband is reasonably proud of healthy male physicality. But now everyone is angry-- the kicking baby, the mother, the agitated husband. Yet when the mother alone fumes, because the baby has stopped kicking and she suddenly conflates of the cessation unrequited love, the husband wishes he could swap furors which are now hard to separate as furors lose their reasons mostly pomp and vitriol. Wishes: See the irascible baby's helpless kicks, and laugh at those-- instead of his wife's potency (more at mudslinging against humble husbands). [comments] => 1 [counter] => 165 [topic] => 73 [informant] => screwge [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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