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Dublin, 4-10-04 (Prose Poem) by myles
"wear the white trousers", My mother said. Which brought to mind My grandfather, long dead. He had worn grey plaid, How then could I wear white? He knew his own failures, While I hide from the light. Still I see the bright pants, Crisp and warm and clean. My mother tells me "wear them", And I know I will give in.

Up the ladder: Don't Care
Down the ladder: Torment From The Undead

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Arithmetic Mean: 5.0
Weighted score: 5.0
Overall Rank: 7790
Posted: October 3, 2004 3:58 PM PDT; Last modified: October 3, 2004 3:58 PM PDT
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Comments:
[5] zodiac @ 212.118.14.17 | 4-Oct-04/4:55 AM | Reply
The Hughes and McDannells
In Glasgow wear flannels,
The Marches in Carisle wear tweeds;

But all of them doff 'em
For Foul Sue of Poffham
And seem (but aren't quite) the same breed.
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