John Clare Writings

I Don’t Wanna Die

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by John Clare I just wanna ride on my motor cy… cle. That is from an Arlo Guthrie song whose name I can’t recall. Nor do I. Want to die that is. Or if I have to, I want to die on the sounding of the last chord of a track by Duke Ellington, or […]

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One Thing We Did

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We caught a ferry from Rockhampton, then camped very cheaply just outside the resort on Great Keppel Island. At the resort’s perimeter we could buy a coffee or a meal at an outside cafe. Those inside, presumably paying a price far beyond our means, rarely left the confines of that playground. They seemed to prefer […]

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Pipe Down Christopher Pyne

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Role models & civilization from another angle My father was away in World War II and was held over for a while after the war’s end. He did, however, appear occasionally on leave, in a bottle green utility. He was a man of principal, great technical and manual skill, and responsibility, but he did not […]

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3 Pomes

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1. In that little park beyond Westminster Palace I saw but could not hear well from the fence A little scarecrow man berate another Larger deadbeat on a seat, A singular yet archetypical Peak-capped, jut-jawed dunce, Who all at once had had enough, And with an odd mechanical jerking gait, His chin pumping, Went to […]

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Nocturnes

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1. Prelude At one time I had a girl friend who was much younger than I was and only liked sex occasionally, yet we loved each other. On winter nights we loved to slide shivering and laughing between the cold sheets, rub each other’s bodies and hold them tight at the point where warmth had […]

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