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Created on: April 18, 2008
The board.
Nodding acquiescence, the eager heads,
progenitors of yet another fit of novelty,
expel an anxious sigh
"We deserve our place".
Recount it!
The pall of death, the anti-shekinah,
lifts momentarily.
Those seated, stationed, strictly-speaking shagged
see, just quickly-briefly a chance
it might be possible to lose this one
Then down, down come the goblins in cranio
drawing closed the heavy lids.
Now a narcoleptic frenzy of hopeless repose
admits the midday twilight
and nothing happens.
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