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no one

is looking, there is no one here. we are not afraid of

the night.

we spin.
do not dignify the challenges. tread sweetly,

move on.

it is simply.

not worth fretting.
what is it?

how will they know for thinking

comes silent inside our heads

unless we utter..
varying kinds

and ages

it dries and cracks if not stored with care.

biscuit tins are useful
becomes larger as time moves on.

it started early, with greek poetry,

the radio, which played all day.
maybe

is was dark blue with a little red added

lasted two weeks and still prominent.

much has happened since
the power house rears its head again,

pouring images down

like rain.

while gavin bryars plays

on and on

repeated.
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