Tag: writer
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Rotting away in a private space
Use went from sparing to daily Used get it mailed in Rip open the pack and rail it the second it came in. Coke and horse, my arm invaded The syringe impaling Like the razorhoned beaks of the venom-leaking birds of Stymphalia Heart slowly failing, in the palliative cupboard below the clothes railing. It wasn’t something…
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Even for Ireland, a very rainy month
Solved problems in bin liners Sodden Dubliners sighing Longfaced long lines beside Bus corridors at home time Puddles that wouldn’t be long drawing ducks or their cousins Deep puddles you could use for diving Sure, go ahead and drive through doing ninety With no regard for anyone, gone are the old niceties I’ll tell you…