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In Her Pants

an inkling

a tickle

a trickle

a smell in the jam

black rosary

                                                            keep going they tell him

even when life has no blows

no jobs and no

enlightenment even

when the best you’ll get

is a lump of sugar too big

to carry home

  they tell her the time

is now

and apart from

walking quickly

from her fantasy that

they are soldiers

they have the issue to deal with

of finding a route

into her pants

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