by Greg Baysans
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Pocketsworth*
Zomboid and mummoid... The anatomy of ribbed clouds and fast lightning lightening massive traps of sky A place to get my stolid rocks off and it is flesh Lit up like a Christmas tree promising presents, burning all night in a mass waste of energy, energies... home on tv a man preaches money or your choice of three too new to be too old to be good... saying goodbye night after miles walking home light is never right and waiting for Santa Claus in October air before the snow flies leaving evergreens lit up like Christmas trees promising somedaynight (I want a man to love as much as I do symphony)
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https://members.tripod.com/~poetx/poels/pock.html