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'say ...' a poem by Michael Farrell

May 2009, no. 311

'say ...' a poem by Michael Farrell

May 2009, no. 311

the gardens dyed silver. finally he was

less keen like an eaten bird, it wasnt my thing

the path diverged off course to a camp.

you were willing to grow a pomegranate inside.

here they were gods people with their quiet domestics,

the redheads were nicer however. the pram, was full with a baby,

‘dreaming’ of white museums. & white art.

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