Arsenic Lobster poetry journal |
Issue Forty-three April 2017 |
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Like Today Bruce McRae Some days are longer than others. They have more red in them. More accidents. More haircuts. Some days lie outside of night. A drove of sheep grace their high country. You can’t get in or out of bed. Like today, which is six yards long and four minutes high and without favour. The rent is due and the end is nigh. That church in your mind is burning down and you come running with your bucket of water. |
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