Poem #19 (4 of spades) was released in my beloved Rowden White Library:
Cranking food
down my throat
uncanny tender scraps
unheimlich manoeuvres
like a dance step
make shapes
nothing like a barbeque.
Evenings are killing me
jump off the endnote
into choirs of lawyers
The next stage of merely
players is human
two point zero.
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