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Via the vending maelstrom
I get a blighted
Portfolio poultice.
An art deco
Electric toothbrush.
Three cut-out
Culinary
Square meals.
A jump-to-it
Confederacy
Of confidence
Madrigal
Where nothing is
As it seems – and
The usual
Acidic glare
From
My bed-sit
Night nurse
Who has
Madam Blavatsky’s
... Eyes.
copyright 2020
Stefanie
Bennett |
