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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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