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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
May 2016
Turnpike traffic
When second sight is on me
I can see your future history
some things distorted
lost are we
when second sight
drops in on me.
An ocular refinery is
visionary gold to me.
Drift into the consciousness,
the universal ballroom,
press
up close and dance real slow.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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