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Margrett Gold
Poems
Jan 2013
Last night's Lasagna
By morning we've got cold amphibious tongues
coated in blubs
waiting bubble eyed.
Still slimy throats
up-gurgle newts and muck.
Moss sprouts from our mouths
and brown coated gums.
Flies quivering between teeth.
Lips dry as salted meat.
Written by
Margrett Gold
moon
(moon)
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