50 carbon copies

in poetry •  6 years ago  (edited)

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50 carbon copies fluttered in the wind of a huge fire that was spreading from the north.

Maybe someone has set a miracle on fire and it’s got out of hand and turned a new leaf and then went for a swim to cool off but couldn’t because of the –eyes- that see in the dark that were glowing and playing the ride of the valkyries

While two magpies chased a mouse around a dusty yard full of motorbikes

While smoking huge cigars that wanted to drop bombs

On the Americans for some reason

But because of government cutbacks were going on a diet

And burning hay in the loft to save weight

And all the time drinking coffee too strong

And raging like untuned pianos in the market place

Where the farmers sold their produce

After turning their fields to fire from the north

As the politicians abandoned shop

While 50 carbon copies fluttered in the wind...

Image from Pixabay

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No one does it better than wales. -pangoli

Thank God I'm me then