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Jack Kelly
Poems
Jan 2013
StrawBerries
Shrivelled Strawberries are all juiced out.
The fields are to long they block out the streams.
Save yourself from the grains then dropped to many blind mice.
Mines a fried egg , in demand for a content Sunday morning.
Existing for your touch and picture in a frame.
There will be nothing left yearn for but the nest in virtual gain.
Never warranted, never examined.
Dripping taps and a head full of sour *****
Get born again and have the hourly flap jack.
Whatβs the reason? Give another slip.
I saw this coming, the brand new exclusive six hour clip.
Loaded in a dangerous weapon of peace.
Embrace the floor, thought it shallows the soles of boundless feet.
Inherit the soul that squeezes.
There are the strawberries in a picnic in the middle of winter.
Call us callous and homeless with bitter springs.
Must I follow gutless, mute kings?
I ate the dinner and the news does stink.
You must forgive, you must forget.
This demon sinister is hell bent.
No better to speak the truth.
Jockey full of **** will coil, shake and drain the juice.
Much love and strawberries thought the mouths are dry.
Much prefer a leg of lamb.
Near Apocalypse and blessed is the tinned spam.
Written by
Jack Kelly
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