the congregation of the girls
procurement blues
yesterday, with cows in the field
a cupful of tar
show
Carmelite chocolate
busy with tasks which don’t need doing
a banana
driving thirty years ago, when the roads were quiet and the cars were noisy
it shouldn’t have happened
three years ago last Friday morning, or maybe four years, I’m not sure
Wally may call, but Pete will meet you in person
oh shite
oh Susannah
a banjo in my throat
hello my sweet
grimacing death
I don’t want it to be this way
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