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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Mar 2017
A free identity with every litre
drink to excess
drunk you're a mess
if only
I smoke alcohol
it saves on the glasses,
they say that girls make passes
at boys who save glasses
if that's true
where are they?
Sunday
I smell liquor on the vicar
the sermon is a shambles,
drunk
the vicar rambles on about
some giant on a cross
at a loss to explain
I roll a champagne
and
if you're going to smoke
it might as well be the best.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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