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Park Without Stephen
Part grey, today,
part duck.
Behind the trees
a helicopter hurls pulse nonsense
at this sodden heart,
which reliably pumps full
the artery that bloods the gut,
and floods the library with
bright henna for the sluts.
You were not there, I realised,
as I nuzzled with the pups,
my nostrils too late screaming "Wolf!" -
Wolf which these same tired tits doth suck.
Philip White
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