I sat in circles in early life
on the other side of town
sat my chubby-cheeked wife
we touched toes and recited rhymes
our multiplication was sublime
predecessors in the ground
a fine tooth comb on the ground
the playground dust swirled around the ground
like phat phantom dirvishes
West End nighting
gale
my tempest brake
was Radnor Lake
in the hereafter I hope to soar
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