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Firstly I want to thank the many people who have had an input into this work. My mother, the late Linda who was like a second mother and writing tutor..
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Today, will be a day of ales downed,
smooth and creamy as the years
and celebrations alight with th..
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Please can you pick a preference of collocation?
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This one is getting printed in a charity fundraising book so I really need you guys to bash it. It cant have any mistakes whatsoever, so ..
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I wake, half drunk, where
those first sparrows warble
into early spring. My best friend
presses ice-cool water to my lips.
She hazes the room wi..
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But here, at the final barricade,
British customs officials snatch his brown arms,
force him to depart, his feet scar
the concr..
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Six years old he stands the same height
as the cello and still idealises his father
their lead singer, who drunkenly reels
between the..
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THis is not well-written:
I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, "Mother, what was war?" ~Eve Merriam
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In a Fermanagh farmhouse a T.V. flickers
romantic as candlelight and a man
arms pimpled by the North wind,
hugs his young fiancé w..
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His forebears might have tamed a wild horse
while riding bareback through fields;
or legislated the animal spirit;
now there is only this: an ..
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