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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Aug 2015
We dream disaster
The tracer track,
blood red mixed with black, black, black
launched by the monopoly to
make an attack on me and my
place in the
hierarchy.
In the whiplash flash and
as quick, the tracer track
licks my skin,
blood red
black lead and as
my body bends
it ends
just
like
that.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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