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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Jan 2017
Clutching at straws
It only looks like we mean but looks are?
and then I get stuck because what is a look
and what does it mean?
Art Deco does things to me,
twentieth century?
mention me to
Clarice
I can't come to terms with germs
remember ' Monk?'
sunk without a trace
his final case
was himself.
"It's a jungle out there"
Wednesday brings a ray of sun
in the weak light
we pray
for Friday to come
I hate 5am
nothing stirs
not me
not the spoon in the tea
nothing
but
it's not 5am for long
that's what looks are
I mean
maybe.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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