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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Apr 2016
In at the deep end
A snake
chequered flag black
curled and crawled
down her
long slender back.
The tattoo parlour and
the artist therein
had captured precisely
its movement
in each little *****
of the ink coated pin.
Spinning wheel red
my eyes being fed
to a python.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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Peter Balkus
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Terry Collett
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