BACK TO HUB

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The parlour was alone.
Like a pellet in a bone.
I’ve given him his novel back.

The covers were not easy.
Tabulate a metal track.
The early only stand back.

The Amazonian spoke.
The visit of a drone.
His donging making bell cracked.

Clips only on its inside.
It won’t stand a rocking back.
This old fellas bell cracked.