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May 2019
My God this place is run by critters
Love nestles in the shade
Where all moving shadows are predatory
And a lost child dreams of wildfires
Holding the hand of an arm-sized stick
He lumbers through an unbeaten path
Vomiting greasy puddles of gasoline
Eyes shining as ferocious as panther piddle
And the bunnies scatter!
Written by
William
82
 
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