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BEDTIME
STORY
A
quintet of prophets once made a raid
on
a thorny crag to take up position,
implicitly
making the people afraid
that
unless they rolled up with casks of contrition
they’d
be cast under bridges in no nice condition.
But
dawn is addicted to ‘devil-may-care!’
and
inspired the mothers each morning to make
their
cumbersome husbands solemnly swear
that
they’d cast these fakers into the lake
or
go elsewhere for cunny and cake.
So
that’s what happened at Brittling Schooner,
of
little status like many others.
The
black-bat shamans should have gone sooner.
The
playgrounds ring; no sermon smothers.
And
that this happened was down to the mothers.
Alan
Marshfield
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