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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Jan 2015
The gramophone man
Tea stains on the table and
a wafer on the floor,
the balcony door is open,
what do I live here for?
No one cleans except for me,
to put it succinctly,
and.
In the sink a lonely cup
looks up accusingly.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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