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Can you tell the difference between real and unreal?

If not then I am writing to you

about psychosis and the difference between being the One

who isn’t and the one who is.

I must go to the Church today and see the one

who is in control of the baptisms of Bath

who asks not who is here

but asks when shall we notice that she

is?

Who is going to tell you about

the birthrates of the City of Bath

and who is unioning and who isn’t going

to shul as they are preparing for incest

against the woman they know as Mum?

All it takes is cognition.

No speaking in tongues is allowed here on

the page.

No spoken language can tell the tune again

of the world’s end and how I held

it in my hands for you to say

So?

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS 2021

What’s the procedure for this

the time is nigh for a muss with the head

and a fuss with the heart,

a friend by the doorway

and a sustaining look at a key

to the door of your head

and the start of the words coming through

the keyhole like terms of endearment

but not without the worry of times

spent in the loosehead mob

of the court and higher learnings

where they do not know how

to find an answer when all is about to see

that no one hears the words of the Lord

who asks not for the antiques but the real

named person who gave Him a bad name

for he is without killing and no one

can surely find the way to him in a bearing

like they use on the bookshelves for indexing

the author of their wares. For even in the world’s

books are there no use for the way in which

we see our lives about to finish without

knowing why.

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He shoves it to the left

and wriggles it back to the right.

The ball dances on a flipper

then sinks outtasight.

Judge Dredd, Ace of Clubs

multiball and more!

She tries to regain level

maybe make the highest score!

A target sinks under accurate fire!

Another goes and extra ball is lit!

She’s sweating now, reefer and beer…

A crowd has assembled

crushing close, pushing near.

She lets the ball bounce on a rubber,

subtle fingerplay shows off

her skill with the machine

she’s pissing him off!

TWACK! Goes the machine,

again for Specials lit

the metal ball is glowing

the flashing lights are getting hit!

Bump-bump go her hips

as she puts her body in

Two free games, no more!

The targets are all a-spin!

Finally she can do no more

her control has worn thin…

Over to you she shouts

do better! With a grin.

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I lay so long on the open lawn

I gathered dew in my fist

Peppered by music in my ears

A solemn vow to be kissed.

The trees above they shed their leaves

falling about my mouth

The birds were crying against the clouds

long on their journey South.

The few begin the hard won Road

snatched from undergrowth,

the use of machetes tore at green

in silence they cut with stealth.

No machine out here

Upon the verge, of latent falling wings

the chainmail mist hung with the urge

to sample a knight’s last fling.

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There was a time

when all things were made

in Eden.

Everything we owned

was priceless

and involved long hours

of arduour and wealth

procurement. Nothing became

of those things, they rotted

and fell apart but

were never thrown away

as in todays world

where the dump

can easily be mistaken

as a haven for the

insanely collective.

it took many ideas to foment

a pile of rotting soil.

Too many ideas is against

the Lord, I say.

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It couldn’t take long

to even the keel

and separate the man from

the bird.

Mostly it took

nor even nor book

to licence the thrill

from its rook

-ery of chance.

Never before had the man

opened doors of the heart

and it’s whimsical place

on the hearth. But

no one ensured that the

right comes once more

as the wily men

of the Nansook poured

forth with their

anger for the tumult

and furs.

In the end it was just

to fight with mere listening

at the trials of the

men and machine.

But ever so long

it reported in song

that the hills were

now vacant of longing

for the arrow to shoot

the man with the loot

and it came about

that all were involute.

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YOU ARE ME AND WE TWO ARE GOOD

It is the look of love you sought

and you found it in me withstand a kiss

that does not measure for

the sign is good

that you are able to see

that all the real members of State

are not going to see you

without seeing the end of all the ones

called the rare and ungained for the use of it

is not going to make you see that all

the will in the world does not need

you like I do sweet senora of mine

and I know it once you see

that all the rare and unearthed material

from our sword of Damocles

shall not be ready for when

the earth shatters

with our kiss.

You and I are one and the same

Ladies do not judge for she is better than

you shall ever know at the work of she

and that is one for the God above

to see and not hear for they do not judge

and know not what to find in the intimate

enjoyment o0f brother and sisterhood

like we find together.

You wilfind that all the wrongs do not matter and they

that do

do not understand what it is

they do.

You are victory and hat does not matter

for they are knew and they kind

of make you feel all the more than

the rest know in state and other guides

of life.

COPYRIGHT BRUCE E SAUNDERS com BRUCE P SAUNDERS com BRUCE CDF MORE 2020

Your lissome regrets

Harbour no sails

As I groom you to know

I am not equal to your love

I sustain

You envelope

Me in your lusting

For More.

I wonder at my name

Prince William of Brit

For never shall I know

How you found me

Alone as a knave

Now my wish has been

Granted. I have found

A Tommy but you are

The swell I have been

Swimming for.

Lift me up so I surf

The Kalahari again

Resist not

Dear Kate

You are the timely

Saint of my

Longing. B

BCDFM

COPYRIGHT Bruce E Saunders 2020

The trouble I have is

For the word called man

I think it should be different

It should be “hole”

For if I see one

I dive in

And try to come out

As being too coal-

Black for it to try

And keep me.

It is without doubt

That the women who read this

Are not all too blind

To see me in daylight

But not as the stars cast

Their long shrine upon me

For I shroud not in evil

But in black of a soul.

BCDFM

COPYRIGHT Bruce E Saunders 2020