Poem #49 (ace of spades) was released in an old jar of Two Fruits off the breakwater in Warrnambool. Maybe it will wash up one day and be found by somebody! I hope they won't be too disappointed if they were really just hoping for some free Two Fruits.
Let’s straighten out some curly family history.
The youngest of three,
he grew up in a slipstream of brothers.
All his milestones were expected;
all his milky vomits anticipated and caught.
Then the silence stretched out anxiously,
til finally, behind schedule, he spoke.
And then, often.
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