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Poems
Nov 2017
The ****** are frightful, as they're crescent lunar at night, as sickly folks crap out leftwards & right, as Mandela's wogs burn sun-bright
"With our boxes of matches and our necklaces we shall liberate this country." -- Winnie Mandela, April 13, 1986 (Necklaces are tires filled with gasoline placed around the necks of bound political opponents and set aflame.)
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