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John Edward Smallshaw
Poems
Dec 2023
On the riptide
Saturday
went South
or thataway
as the crow flies.
I rise only to sink
I
think that's what drives me to drink
that's not the same as drink driving
even if it sounds like it.
There's always tomorrow they tell me
I can almost see it on the periphery
I'd rather it was another Friday
but in the end that'll go thataway too.
Written by
John Edward Smallshaw
68/Here and now
(68/Here and now)
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