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Deep in the depths of a dark, dark pool lives a water monster named Billy McCool. He's got shiny scales of pink candy ice
I’ve seen those tough as oaks
weep like willows
even the hardest thugs can have tear stained pillows
most can’t see the forest for the trees
He was seven and I was six, my Brendon Gallacher.He was Irish and I was Scottish, my Brendon Gallacher.His father was in prison; he was a cat burglar.
That fire, they said, was red as red as redas red as a fox, your lips, a cherry;that fire, they said spread and spread and spread,faster than a cheetah or a nasty rumour;
Nicholas, I’ve warned you
about not paying attention
in my class.
This is your final warning.
At swimming once,I went to turn from front to backand just kept turning,just kept turning,turning over,over and over,till the swimming teacher said,
A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream till the current ends and dips his wing
Dada taught me cards.Sitting in his suit of pants and vest.A fistful of joker-red hair strewn across his brow.His big belly like a cannon ball.
In the Carribeanat the end of daysun drops suddenlylike a fire ballbehind forested hills
Say, Good mornin, Granny MaamaGood mornin, Grandpa Taata.Good mornin when it rainin.Good mornin when sun shinin.Good mornin.