Here lies Martes Flavigula, eternally beneath the splintered earth.

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Poems -

I oust Morpheus
and he tumbles from
my shroud to
the curb - where he sprawls
poisoning busybodies (they'd
never fallen quiet).
Even the dogs curl in
oblivion in
the street

Along with martens, goulish goats and the rippling fen -
these writings 1993-2021 by Bob Murry Shelton are licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 4.0

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