The Devil's Pleasure Garden
(If you look at this on your phone you'll miss 2/3 of the triptych. Click on my face to contact.)
Poems are like farts.
Poems are like farts.
Other people’s stink. One’s own
Have subtle perfume.
(From Senryu,
http://robertmaclean.blogspot.com/2010/11/senryu_6824.html
)
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