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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 09:56:38 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 143890
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Threadbearer
[time] => 2008-07-14 03:07:25
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => The strings are on guard, all taut, Imposing and stilted as iron wrought. If you pulled just one, I’d have a souvenir – And like a guitar, I’d be able to hear The tugging -- Your mug all contorted, your face smugging Out a billboard for this corset. Well, I could not endorse it With inexpungible furor -- With a boost in the mirror. So many times I have sung a carol While rummaging through apparel, Looking for heart-suspended dress, Only to find it innately heartless Because so many times you tackle the pith And find that its strength is a myth. Sometimes in the glimpse Of a dimple Newfound lameness limps. The creases cut like a wimple Seem to advocate their ruse. But yet I have been weaving With their humble blues, And I too took to deceiving. For, I often stagger From happenstance rocks That trip up my swagger Like thick-toed socks. [comments] => 0 [counter] => 143 [topic] => 75 [informant] => screwge [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => anguished )
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