banal to say without any analysis, but I like this poem a lot.
Randolph Healy
At 20:30 29/03/98 +0100, you wrote:
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> urban animal it is never still it is
> moving forward imperceptibly
> even as it rests its pain like St Elmos
> Fire sheathing its spokes dripping
> dirt street wipeout blues like winter
> rain from handlebars almost naked
> everything tipped just so a wireframe
> antelope fluorescent bungees
> a saddle like a shoehorn and no bell
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