The poet spent a recent Christmas holed up and cackling like a hen while writing this, um, slightly bent series… 😆

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Recorded Reading (0:44): https://www.dropbox.com/s/egwhcdqc88ksj4o/Wring%20Sliver%20Necks.mp3?dl=0

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Wring Sliver Necks

Wring sliver necks
Of every kid
Who will not do
As they are bid

I’m trying to
Put out the food
They won’t get out
From underfoot

I know that they’re all
Amped up on Christmas
Candy — They’ll still be
Sorry

If they don’t mellow
Out some, I’ll give them
Reasons to have to
Worry

If some of them would consent to caper
Over there and clean up all that paper…

I know that I’m
Not in a good
Holiday-type
Maternal mood

But that’s okay
End of the day
Kids go away
We get to play…

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Homeless until removal of the stalker/targeter/vandal/arsonist following her allows her to approach any landlord ~ even for a private parking space ~ this poet presently lives under perpetual threat of towing with all possessions should her 23-year-old van stop running for any reason.

She is badly in need of a modest reserve with which to field any emergency which might occur.

Donors may visit http://www.UgiftABLE.com , using code #72D-31S. It does take several days for the poet to be notified of your patronage.

Thank you for reading, and may your holidays be happy ones.

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