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Stories for small children

	past the hollows
	we built the sanctuary
we burnt books 
	in the summer
	in the night
	we set literary figures to their graves
the type my step mother hid
	in a wino’s bag
		xervia story of a hooker
		the male g spot
		the female g spot
		anal double ding dong
that man on the corner
	iridescent flesh
spin little ballerina
echoes 
	like the time i took you to the cemetery to meet my mother
	is how i feel right now
	like taking your significant other
	to see
	if they meet the approval of the dead
i am a member of the communist parties ashes
i am the reverb
	singing baby give me all your dead presidents 
this is bitter better
this is how you grow
in gravel
	in fallow soil
duck and cover its a winos can
when looking for truth all we found was
wasting on the breeze
	we used someone's wetdream to start a fire

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