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SCRAMBLED EGGS by William S. Tribell

Paris  in  the  night,   And  someone  died  at  a  Funeral,   Split  and  gored  his  barnet  fair   Or  a  load  of  old  pony Walrus  smile  sleeping Rain-­‐  wash Aston  Martin  bang  bang   Martini  mud  red  rough  gravel   Airplane  love  song,  gravestones   Green  grass  hill  and  =ield     Three  steps  down  from  plaster She  was  all  at  sixes  and  sevens Tuned  in  and  turned  on Real  cool  faded Far  out  gone   Indian  shoeless  and  smoking In  the  second  act   Dewsbury  road  running King  Lear The  mother The  music Cranberry  sauce All  together  now All  together   Counting  counting  counting   In  a  family  way Oh  boy

Spudgun #1  

Magazine of poetry and art

Spudgun #1  

Magazine of poetry and art