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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Mar 2019
Collecting bugs.
Joseph swopped his dreamcoat
for a trip downriver on a
Mississippi steamboat
and it was all in
technicolour.
There is no bible big enough
to hold all the stuff
that faith is made from,
my mom told me that
( actually it was mam but that didn't rhyme )
But it's all boo to a goose
with its neck in a noose
I prefer Turkey
or
sometimes Kabul.
Here at the altar
a prayer
a Colt a
bang.
I hang with the goose.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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