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Category: Books

A Christmas Poem for Anna

The taste of Anna and red wine.So lovely to drink and drink. Somehow without her sweet nectar the wine is not so fine.So without wine now I swim onpool water a poor substitutefor past Dionysian revels,future promises in every stroke.

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No Jane Austen Heroines…

No Jane Austen heroines for meall prose and no poetry,reason and norm insistentin every dawn anda faultless sense of society,infallible propriety.I’ll dally to ventilatethe tight sphincter which crampsher every breathin hope to release the emotionsstifled so long below.Hopeless though, these women -function of their most intimate organsgoverned so strongly from the headand not the heart. One pure breath of unfiltered emotion, more, sadlythan six months of stifling devotion.

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