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After
three martinis,
Incoherent
Mary takes herself upstairs to bed at eight pm.
After
a while I follow,
And
slipping in betw..
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Write me a poem of the sea,
My eldest son said to me,
Of pirate ships and derring do,
All upon the Spanish main,
And when the grand Ar..
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My
father’s mind is escaping,
From
his wheelchair he can see through the art room window,
A
bright yellow line of sand,
A
blue-..
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Sailboats in the harbor,
Families on the strand,
Young men playing volleyball,
Girls upon the sand,
Memories of summers past,
..
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Harry
Behrens,
Stooping
over on his two crutches,
Lit the gas
oven for the second time,
Was blown,
miraculously unhurt,
Backwa..
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Out
on the promenade,
Of an
old seaside hotel,
A row
of white haired ladies,
Look
vacantly out to sea,
Over
a jumble of rocks,
..
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