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Three Poems


Geoffrey Cruickshank-Hagenbuckle

Sleeping Spell


Before getting into

    the little boat

And after disguising himself

    from his brothers

Suitcase with a wren’s

    bell on your shoulder.




Sleeping Spell


That round won

My family procured

    a pianola

For I never saw them again.




Sleeping Spell


Would you like me to go under the gun,

For that traitor Castor’s fatal ruse?




(All lines from dreams)