Other Poems

	A paper ideology The cat has his smile Words on the whiskers Like traces of cream Symbols on the paws It would eat my life If I didn't run so Fatten on dull causes Flatten street prayers Greenbacks and pigbacks Pepper recliners Like newspaper chains Moulting old skin Through the senseless No, mind, he's chasing His tail, futile as Hunting dimensions The simple appearance Of smiles and lies Watches me creep Like old cells within © David Incoll 2001
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