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Poem

The hidden garden we played in 
was bordered in red brick.
Crenellations of a faded fort,
ivy-scattered and wing-aged.
A Victorian garden.

Poem

I am the evil Slithermonchowchuck,
I am afraid of no one (well almost no one).
I munch on the marbles of lost lunatics,
I nibble on the toes of Tyrannosaurus 

Red Cherry Red
Poem

I spied a small lonely boy.
I was his beautiful red balloon,
from morning through to noon,

Poem

I am on the bathroom floor
screeching,
Tippi shaking me back into the world.

Poem

Why must we go to school, dad?
Tell us, dear daddy, do.
Give us your thoughts on this problem, please;
No one knows better than you.

Poem

Behind you
Windrush child
palm trees wave goodbye

above you
Windrush child
seabirds asking why

around you
Windrush child
blue water rolling by

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