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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 23:42:33 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 87460
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Something About the War Going on in My Urethra
[time] => 2005-03-14 18:11:36
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => I think I recall your shrink-wrapped genitalia. They sang guiltless as they filled your stones, With every disembowelment they possessed. Twitching with chlamydia, it had you weak. They uttered that rope around your neck, When they said in a narcoleptic hiccup, “Try on our rabies. They are ripe with contingency, In this venereal pitter patter of open sores.” You had mere seconds to giggle out a grief. Walls bounced with everything heretical in your hands. That night I swore we were like lepers in heat. You had no idea what we were touching. The questions were tingling on every lip you had, And all I could say was that it was too dark a night. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 158 [topic] => 6 [informant] => savingmarion [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AngryPoetry )
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