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*A burnt-back day in the field,we're all aching and tired,huddled on this rank straw,too close, too hot for sleep;the animals press and heave;coughs,..
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Airtight.No sound.NoIs that you?above the TVturned up too loud.No feeble getting upto proffer hand or kiss.No shufflinground the assembly-kitof treasu..
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I get a sepia-tinted sadness justfrom recalling an old photographof my parents on honeymoon,posed by the seafront railingsin Douglas, Isle of Mann, wi..
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Chenonceau: selfies by the coach-loadat this château on the Cher.Chef d'oeuvre of hydroponic art,like a house-plant extraordinairewith its feet ..
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There were eighty-eightglistening constellationsdraping a night skyacross my back porchwith eighty-eight spidersflaunting fat bottomsand midges, gnats..
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It would have been rudeof us to stareso we quickly looked awaydisappointmentdoesn't necessarilyshow on an actor's facenot in Prezzo anywayhe finished ..
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Anything goesAnd lovely Is the roseThe internetHas madePoetsOf us allShouted A one-eyed Man withA tickling stickHe wasJust standingThere likeOne of Le..
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There are certain certainties about every Monday:
you know the weekend will have come and gone,
next door will have washed his car and drowned
hi..
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“Entre-deux-morts”, not “Entre-Deux-Mers” -mates of mine, the pair of them joking about the wine;were they sneering at my lous..
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If privilege shared's forfeit repaired,then my searing secret should be aired:for oft I hear the Thump-it Voluntaryof Man's New Child - and his pulmon..
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