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- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Starfish Scramble
Poem Info
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The ocean's audience,
We see the backs of their heads
They're transfixed.
No necks craining the flow,
They're bald-headed
Skinned radically coloured fuzz.
These the pulverized pebbles.
Ebb the fickle-natured drones,
Flood the dutiful salted crystals.
The moon's chief co-ordinator,
No qualms about
Cleansing
Tidal turpitudes.
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