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place in teller-posted
Obliterature
Wednesday, 23 June 2010
Clissold.
but what it is,
that salmon pink silk,
layed soft upon ripples.
twists up, orange-like
through jet-stream
rippings, butter blue
as perforations
in the clouds.
the mercury of seasons.
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tomas
london
written on reams of teller paper, snatched from without the stops and gaps of dead time and the bundles of daily work.
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and what of that constant moon,thigh-white and bre...
Clissold.but what it is,that salmon pink silk,laye...
my map,unraveled.in its middlewas she there,maiden...
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