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Down and out, it can't be helped but there's a lot of it about.
With, without. And who'll deny it's what the fighting's all about?
Out of the way, it's a busy day, I've got things on my mind.
For the want of the price of tea and a slice the old man died.

Friday, July 1, 2011

to a Flame

A constellation of fireflies
flit in the night-tree canopy.
Living planetarium of
ever changing stars,
calling to each other with
the psalm of sex.
One note staccato
rhythm of the ages.
Candles burning on both ends
from the fever of life.
Take me, nurse,
before I am consumed
by the fire
and fall cinder like
into the glorious
pin-hole sky.

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