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	<title>Children</title>
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		<title>Butterfly Wings</title>
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		<description>Draft</description>
		<dc:creator>anstey</dc:creator>
		<category>Cats with Opposed Thumbs, Chalices of Mucus, and Several other Oddities to Avoid Whilst Poeting</category>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Nov 2008 19:24:40 GMT</pubDate>
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		<title>The Naked Poem</title>
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		<description>    A naked poem showed up on my doorstep. I was shocked,  to say the least. Thank God, my husband wasn't home. I told the children I had company and they needed to go to their rooms, and then I reluctantly let him in.      &quot;What the hell is this about?&quot; I asked him. &quot;You've got some nerve walking around here like that. This is a respectable family neighborhood.&quot; He hung his head in shame and said,  &quot;I know, I know, but you've just got to help me!&quot;  He went to sit down.  ... more  </description>
		<dc:creator>Celticlion</dc:creator>
		<category>A Load of Empty Boxes</category>
		<pubDate>Thu, 08 May 2008 22:59:08 GMT</pubDate>
		<comments>/section-567-a-load-of-empty-boxes#comments</comments>
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		<title>Cur</title>
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		<description>  Rocking heads   let us mind   each ration's lullaby   keeps nodding, peace,   we all must kiss our guns of purity and pray,   no blood above can cock a bullet's voice,   no god will give known knees that kneel,   the siren's whore is wise,   she sings disease,   lush slums devised   where opportunists   close the ghetto's eyes-   cruel men defeated,   childrens' throats are spooned to feed   the dust is won,   no burning hand   flags stolen lies,   demand what breathing skin of sand,   dug holes will bury each dog's rise.    ... more  </description>
		<dc:creator>Celticlion</dc:creator>
		<category>CelticLion-The Pornographer's Hyena Dies In a Loveless Lair</category>
		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Apr 2008 22:05:55 GMT</pubDate>
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		<title>Blame A Bitching</title>
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		<description>    Yesterday, I told my husband,  go down the hardware store, we're out of batteries, lightbulbs and shame.   He lay there abusing the sofa, stained boxers, foam gut bulging above an open mouthed fly.   He sprayed me in the eye with malice, bits of half  a jowl's sandwich crusty edge reaching his greasy head's cluttered table, muttering nothing, chewing cable.   So, I went out back, sat on the steps; a burning cigarette, spitting smoke on the long haired lawn that bum started mowing  ... more  </description>
		<dc:creator>Celticlion</dc:creator>
		<category>Loom</category>
		<pubDate>Sun, 27 Apr 2008 00:36:32 GMT</pubDate>
		<comments>/section-579-loom#comments</comments>
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