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John Beetle
Poems
Apr 2014
Tides of a body
who now sleeps in your tides of a body?
now I give up
The bed,
The food,
The time
Lives.
I donβt think heaven is here
I donβt believe in your god
Take me away to
another soft tide of a body
The milk shades in rooms
naked people on streets
The homeless finally smile.
prose
people
Written by
John Beetle
London On
(London On)
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