How caramelled this apple
of late has been,
bit
and the monarchy of my mind
is usurped by powers of some
other magna carta
my darkest day is filled with
light
shedding the old fallacy
of a triphop drug addled
baby boy of corduroy
the flap of flags is all I hear
on the isle of Whit
a gleaming tear
a patriotic snear
a Tridentine Mass
neither here
nor here
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