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Sep 2018
Starlight pierces the shroud–
What is my mettle in this contraption?
Like a mite of sand
Which can stop a clock
But for it to align the wrong way?
Yet something tells me I’m less–
A wink folded into the rift,
A little joke played on a cassette
Good only to a hipster’s ears.
Written by
Pat Broadbent  20/M/New York
(20/M/New York)   
248
     Fawn, Woody and ---
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