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  • beggars
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beggars

Assisi - by Norman MacCaig

{ Poem }

The dwarf with his hands on backwards
/ sat, slumped like a half-filled sack
/ on tiny twisted legs from which
/ sawdust might run,
/ outside the…

Frescade - by W. Price Turner

{ Poem }

we have to go call a taxi
/ the light be the store isn’t working
/ the night is black
/ the moon is dark tonight
/ I…

Processional at the Winter Solstice - by Gerry Cambridge

{ Poem }

He has gone down into darkness at the wrecked end of the year
And is lying, gaberlunzie, in the needled nest of frost.
The arctic thrushes call for him although he cannot hear.

Mercy O’ Gode - by James Pittendrigh Macgillivray

{ Poem }

Twa bodachs, I mind, had a threep ae day,
/ Aboot man’s chief end…

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