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Nov 2010
Set upon a mornin' rush
my fingers tired
eyebrows crushed

burrowed, borrowed
time to dash
time to crash,
to hell with cash...

I run. I run.
everlasting,
my copper top
a blast.

It's cold! You rapscallion!
artificial heat
beats my feet,
I slow, Yes, I slow...

my fingers tire
my eyes in tow...
http://www.robross.ca
Robert McKinlay
Written by
Robert McKinlay  Vancouver
(Vancouver)   
844
 
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