Down at the bottom of a long summer stewed daily warp
grabbing and grasping with puppy fingers
knowing all they don't ever see, growing up to be
hang by the hunger
hanged by the hunger
and all sense cast asunder with mosh spread gravity
startled is a mock
parting is a time bomb
tick tock
not rini as in rene down at the docks
clean socks
shot out clocks
a fairie girl still in the wrapping and box
a lover with a top of the class (shock)
in the school of fraught jawboneyard dogs school of hard knocks
I'm back in the dock
the third from my stock
to get lock
up
irish blood
paddylocks
rasta from county clare
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