poetry critical

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death (c)row

the bloody bit of feather maintained
body warmth clutching a stuffed pussy
(which it held as if it were an egg);
it stabbed my pet cat
with its talons till it was dead.

4 May 07

(define the words in this poem)

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this is just plain weird.
 — unknown

right. sorry.
 — unknown

Tunnel vision, just focus on what you think is relevant
cool poem
 — unknown

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