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She reflects. Time, Time patterns, events, Sorts them into allotted Compartments inside Her head. Or attempts The task whilst smoking, Sensing the smoke hit The back of her throat, Trying to keep thoughts In order, separate the Chaff, the small talk, The did I tell you what So and so did, kind of Chatter, nothing of Importance, no real Matter. Toadbody Imported philosophy Into her mind, the left Wing Marxian kind, But ****** her well at The same time. He had A wart on his ***** Felt rather than seen, Somewhat like the love Of God, she thought. She Knew she had the pox. Another Toadbody import, A parting gift no doubt, After the rude disagreement And noisy rout. She inhales The smoke. Remembers Toadbody’s attempts at Long lasting *** as a huge Joke. She still dreams of Capitalism’s demise, the long Ago promised revolution to Come over the hill of history Like a ****** out ***** Murdering millions, pretty Much as it did before. She Imagines Toadbody importing Into another dame his weak Philosophy, ***** and love For want of a better name. She is free of him. Out on A limb, staring at stars and Moon, waiting for God or fate To bring her another love or Lover or sexually satisfying mate.
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Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 2:59 AM UTC
SHE REFLECTS. (OLD POEM)
She reflects. Time, Time patterns, events, Sorts them into allotted Compartments inside Her head. Or attempts The task whilst smoking, Sensing the smoke hit The back of her throat, Trying to keep thoughts In order, separate the Chaff, the small talk, The did I tell you what So and so did, kind of Chatter, nothing of Importance, no real Matter. Toadbody Imported philosophy Into her mind, the left Wing Marxian kind, But ****** her well at The same time. He had A wart on his ***** Felt rather than seen, Somewhat like the love Of God, she thought. She Knew she had the pox. Another Toadbody import, A parting gift no doubt, After the rude disagreement And noisy rout. She inhales The smoke. Remembers Toadbody’s attempts at Long lasting *** as a huge Joke. She still dreams of Capitalism’s demise, the long Ago promised revolution to Come over the hill of history Like a ****** out ***** Murdering millions, pretty Much as it did before. She Imagines Toadbody importing Into another dame his weak Philosophy, ***** and love For want of a better name. She is free of him. Out on A limb, staring at stars and Moon, waiting for God or fate To bring her another love or Lover or sexually satisfying mate.
TerryCollett
Written by
Apr 4, 2016
Apr 4, 2016 at 2:59 AM UTC
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