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and to think i saw it on floyd terrace

Tim Martin's Sonnet Project

Friday, January 06, 2006

Breathable Gasses

pooches in mad sneers
tea time calling
our medium incisors
two hands seriously
taken in life as fact
old growth formality
this offrhymed beast
swamp creature elegance
like witchcraft calls
on the inbreath
light continents move
to the cooking channel
yodel their way
in prophylactic elegy

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