Wednesday, 6 May 2009



(for Harry Godwin)

red like the red deer I mean
I know where is an hind
right here in an line
I am a bad red deer
& dropped its balls
chasing poetry beaver
through the fields of england
ken I love another too poor
deirdre the middle ages
exploded in her hands o
the brilliant poets in britain
black dots ate my readers wives
dear deirdre hello its 1360 AD
every day since the internet I died

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