Thursday, 17 May 2007


Too Many Dead Poets, Not Enough Wine


I am as silent as a sign


When I woke up, my house was in a cloud

The Fanny-Fart Symphony

Sometimes I think I see you

Once I saw a golden retriever that looked at me sadly. I thought, you?

Major Minor and his Aide Corporal Punishment

Snow, slowly rising, whispering

I love her like an old coat

The sky is late today, grieving

When I grow up I would like to be alive

No wonder he left the kitchen drawer ajar

Look at me now mother, your awkward lump

First rehearse the easy things

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