Poem of the month International Workers' Day by Holly Pester I was put into a rare recovery position (the shape of bog people in loose rope) My niece sings a song under her fleece He only had to peep in, to peep in, but he still couldn’t do it I hand her...
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Poem of the month International Workers' Day by Holly Pester I was put into a rare recovery position (the shape of bog people in loose rope) My niece sings a song under her fleece He only had to peep in, to peep in, but he still couldn’t do it I hand her two lions to put in her cheeks, purple and yellow There’s too much to do around here What is wrong with her? I have a dragon problem and need help from the giant story I pretend to eat a wooden radish – are you selling or is it a gift? Pretend to kiss the grey spill That’s a real island – they’re pointing at my earring Someone is very small she’s crawling over my knees and whispering to her brother, why did she come here? You cannot move, you mean something else Not your plot, particular dirt, the plot, its expressive stillness She fell and slapped her head on my laptop \, 5 name the poem, devotional shipwreck Women lie down in various rooms of the house taken in by an older brother’s homeopathic handling edged up to the dinner table G
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