the past weighs heavy
image per kilotonne so low
dumb corrupt police
with the local nob
all those ghosts in this bed
on this street
in my head
wooden beams for burning
fear
kowtow
yessir no sir
the ancient beams weight
fills rooms
our desires
wash glue-bourne hair clean
would I have wanted to serve the wheelwright?
no choice
collusion
kill royalty
this my vote
tarnac over the road
--
http://www.badstep.net/
http://www.cb1poetry.org.uk/
"From the waist downwards, Bloodnok was tattooed with a pair of false
legs... facing the wrong way."
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