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Speak to me

12.7.05

yello

she yelled into the halo

expecting her megaphone back





.




Oh that hand gripped abound
the wrist was sore as




some please to cut landscape
across the fording eyes
choir of chase and
which mouth hover

























































its forearm feeling



























how shall my?


















next her mingling in the garden
dirt her hot









hardy



























sum of the good


























roar






















call
Posted by Clifford Duffy at 12.7.05

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