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Array
(
[sid] => 77148
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Omnes Eodem Cogimus
[time] => 2004-12-24 16:34:01
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => It always feels twice as cold, As it sneaks past, The yearning, sloth fat of the rib. Globed in the steep, Of a paralytic, white shock, Knees play to the scent of a break. Why would You follow this? Paid in full distress. Bled on these sins. Bind us all. It severed the fingers, At the cuticles supine, And fed them to You backwards. A tracheatic aperture is caught pacing, Beyond the decay of the teeth. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 152 [topic] => 43 [informant] => savingmarion [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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