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I
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Business centre. The television is
on. Somebody has a headache.
Aircraft leaflet the area,
Margaret Thatcher is on the radio.
A bank manager addresses rotary.
Someone sets fire to the kitchen.
Sit then perfectly still and be
kissed.
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2
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John, or Nanki-Poo
dedicated to that certainty which
disappeared with miners and
Handel's requiem in Old Trafalgar
at Christmas.
Rise then Metroland although
the warmth is that
of unkept places at Euston.
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3
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Property values rise steadily
in the background: foreign investors
at Luton-sur-Mer.
The Greek was dejected that day
and went the whole hog at auction
in memory of his mother, an
illegitimate Mitford.
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4
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Blessings on the Harvest Festival.
I shall contribute an onion.
Or sponsor the cricket team to
advertise my undertakings on their
flannels in deo excelsis so
something is tasteful in
suburbia. Where I Am.
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5
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Hitler and Stalin are the names
of the dogs that roam our streets
after dark. Purchased from
a friend, whose sister has a
brother whose sister is the
receptionist at the business
centre in England.
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