Poetry Blogs (Apr 2010)

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Barn Dance (Progressive)

We started at seven with everything fine

The Old People’s dance would be over by nine

We were lovely and cuddly, wise and benign

It was Christmas and things were so festive

No reason for it to get restive.


But the signs were all there when they brought out the tea

(You all get your cuppa and biscuit for free)

But the shit hit the fan when old Mrs McGee

Who ...

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Also by John Coopey:

I Looked a Twat | John the Hat | You Spurs! | Goatsucker - Villanelle to Hell's Angel | A Trip to the Dentist | Manchester United 1 Chelsea 2 |

The Glossies

entry picture

it’s where old soapstars
go to die
after their fifteen minutes,
and celebrities
whose only perceptible talent
is alighting from a taxi
the paparazzi-friendly grace
the autumnal glossy leaves of
OK, Hello & their ilk
 - their natural habitat -
& are swept up
at the dentist’s & doctor’s
bearing wizened orange faces baring
snow-white veneers
& ai...

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Also by Banksy:

Ant & Deck | Edward | the office party | amongst equals | for now | cherubim & seraphim | both of you | game on - new love | in the garden of Allah | Big cock, Little cock | would you ? | with hindsight | dreams | The Queen of Sheba | a spanner in the works |

Green is..

Green is a colour

Sea green, Pea green, Spring bud and Tea green

Bright green, Pine green, Jade green and Lime green

Fern green, Olive green, Asparagus and Forest green

Pine green, Jungle green, Kelly, Myrtle, Hunter green

Emerald green, Lawn green, Shamrock green, Faun(a) green

Spring green, Moss green, Olive drab and Office green


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greenhumour. politics

Linguistic Approaches to Love


Linguistic Approaches to Love

I could reminisce about the sibilance in your uncertain sounds
the fricatives of your ‘fucks’, the vowels in your moans.
Could dot-to-dot the consonants that construct your 
harsh-angry-hate and make of them a petal, bloomed.
Could take the condemnations, the indignations
and dissolve them into sheer potential o...

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Also by Max Wallis:

Chapbook | Our Duet | 23:21 | For As I Draw You | For Me | For Hope | For An Emptying Smile | For This | For When the Wind Sighs + Audio | For Fortune | For You | For Under a Vowel Sounded Sky (And a Poetry Collection) | Hooray! | For Time’s a Thrifty Whore | For Ways To Not Fall In Love | For My Unloved | For the Notion of Emotion of Three in a Bed |

Our Child

                                     Our Child



            There are not enough moments in the day,

Nor is there time to cradle every possibility

During still and twilight hours.



I dream the luxury of life

Without a quarrel,

And looking at and through

The world again in fresh revealing

            Eyes - excites

A d...

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Also by Noetic-fret!:

Clair |

We three

It snuck up on me.


Hemming my shadow.


a devil on my shoulder,

whispering insanity.

Demented and Tormented

became my friends

and together we ricochet.

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The bay window

entry picture


I haven’t seen her in a month of sundays,

Her fragrance always left me wanting more,

Upstairs by the window, adored,

The second sunday of the month.

I was sure she was an act of god,

The bad type, uncontrollable,

When she left, I was inconsolable,

The last Sunday of the month.

I sat by the same window,

Dreaming of her company,

Hungering for her love...

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Also by Joseph Kennedy:

Ambient | Facade of broken smiles | Fox |

Broken heartsDesertionLoveSunday

Lonely tonight

I'm aching to feel the heel of my hand

held hard up against the bend in your spine,

pushing your pivotal skeletal strand

til your groin meets the vibrant heat of mine.

My insistent hips claim ownership,

 my firm palm presses your sensitive nape

coaxes an involuntary gasp from your lips,

moulding your chest to my breasts gentle shape

Each finger engulfed in that s...

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Also by Alison Smiles:

Moral High Ground | Anniversary | Failure | Yo Mum | Hope | Friends | That is the shed |

Beneath the swagger portrait

entry picture

Beneath the swagger portrait

she stands, legs wide, arms angled,

hand -  raised to harp or dance,

to be plighted, an enchanting gift,

their pallor and their dainty size

a toy for kings to stroke

with their rough fists,

and marvel at, returning

from campaign, or from the lists -


turned in, and resting on the skirts

which flare from where her hips mus...

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gender/sexualityhistorical figures

A time that glowed


Once it was a time that glowed:

turned-up collar, hurrying through glistening, early 60s streets.

A kind of muddling, room at Odsal Top,

or summat like that;

steam train always whistling in the distance


Dashing for the bus; overcoats,

shopping bags, windows steamed up,

conductor breathless.

Running the last yards from the corner,

hammering at the ...

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northold agesouthyouth


entry picture

I always felt so sorry for the hound

the piteous beast, alone and chained

up on the tor,

his lips and eyes lined all around.

With phosphorous.

The pain he felt was never mentioned in the book.


I never cared for young Sir Henry and his fate

when that dumb creature

with his heart so great

was imprisoned there in ruins ancient.

Distorted, tortured to i...

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Also by Ann Foxglove:

behind a dark moon | marshmallow | dance round the kitchen it's SUNDAY!!! | blackthorn | the joke | welcome | Venusienne | ROCK | mother nature's victory!! | dance round the kitchen - it's sunday (part 2) | doxy | for my gem | pinny | patina | insurance | missing person | cavemen | doe/doh! | widow | lemon pips | a poet's death |



Gillian – no relation –

The nation was Browned off

Until homely-you homed in.

You sent him reeling -

Now we know the real Gordon.

His line was unacceptable.

The Gaffer seems accident prone,

Flat on his face again,

Eating grumble pie

And media source.

Though momentarily thrown,

He still aspires to one. 



Notes:  This purporte...

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Also by Barrie Singleton:


Witnessing Sin

Your smoke drifting upwards now intertwines,

Stench of your actions sits waiting to be found.

You never knew the pleasure from this sin,

In dirt and in danger, in feelings unbound.

The strength of the moment frozen in time,

One look or a glance the sky crashes down.

The witnesses squirm at the site of this scene,

One hundred thousand now feel like a crowd.

But no...

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Krimson Darkness

An old poem:

And as today dawns

another judgment upon us,

we await our unsung heroes

to rise up once again.


The evil is stronger,

and our time grows dark

while we wait days

till the hour strikes twice.


The evil must fall

not in the giants

but in us first,

or humanity is lost.


The story can ...

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Bobbing Haiku

entry picture

Apples, toffee, crab

Halloween bobbing

mouths all a- gobbing


Scrawny scouts and guides

bob a jobbing  or robbing?

Brown Owl hob-knobbing


Owl and pussycat

bobbing in a pea green boat

sticky five pound note


Bald heads in damp beds

bobbing, knobbing, throbbing, on the jobbing to the groove

mirrors on the move


Wet chests in whi...

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In the arcades and the alleyways

the fugitive take furtive drags;

what was the craze is now a malaise

and red crosses upon the white flags

bespeak a nationwide neurosis,

a corrosive obsession with health

in thrall to the No Smoking notice:

not at all at ease with itself.


They reel 'em in with Ritalin,

Big Pharma pockets the profit.

The Viagra and th...

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She held her self still

entry picture


held her self still.

And  I,

recalling her face yet-

that with my mouth

I forced the enquiry,

and argued the pressing

to her lips.

Like those wants

of wishes sated,

we had with marbled hurt

turned one back

against the other.

And now 

that was forever

-like the past-

both of us

going nowhere,


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Also by Tommy Carroll:

My fear precedes me |


Credit for the 'difference between sanity and madness' line goes to Alan Moore, I just borrowed it:


A burning sky lights the cry,

as the world looks on.

They see the pain, the maddened stare;

they walk on and do not care.


I scream for them as much as me,

I scream for them because they can’t see,

that ‘the difference between sanity,

and madness

is ...

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Also by Steven Kenny:

The Marionette | The Dancer | Springtime | Daydream | Broken Glass | Dysphoria |

Crying In Your Wedding Dress

The warm eye of waking day
has drifted off
now the roads are rivers
not with rain
but with the tears
crying in that wedding dress
tearing your hair out

The swell of cliche
aches in my teeth
the sea froze over
not with winter
but with the pain
of pulling off that ring
screaming your lungs out

You wore that dress for nineteen hours
you wore it too long
you wore it ...

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Also by Tom Alexander:

Hunger Hill Farm | No Secret Place |

The Beast and the Scribe

entry picture

Dust motes flare bright as falling stars above his sacred work,
his skillful strokes slash at the demons skin,
interlocking prayers his only protection
from the nightmare trapped by walls of cinnabar and ultramarine.
It coils, threatening to leap into the eyes of any who gaze into its charred-bone face
bleeding into the minds fibres, it's most cunning trick.
Its likeness, flayed as ...

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The Birthday Comb

She tips her age into his yawning hands, tracing the mother tide.

Her eyes are bites, and with her smile, her smash of glass in a feral air,

she leaps forward:

            “Name me in your heart.”


His shoulders sigh, fanning twilight thin, and stretch in the arch

of a velvet coat, and with a voice of milk and ice, he complies;

            “You leap into me like a g...

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Also by Marianne Daniels:

Blowback | M.E.E Coming | Picking up a broken mirror... | In the shadow of silence. |

an early book1 poem fade into focus... book 2006



I have seen many things through my eyes.

I see magic, mystical places, angels and fighter planes.

I see the magic of a summers day high in the mountains.

I see surreal dreamers flying through the rarefied air.

I see Gothic maidens dressed in long black dresses

dancing under the moon.

I see a Spitfire turning on a knife-edge,

sun reflecting o...

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2 warplane poems i wrote in the pub before my open mic for free beer | a bike poem | i grew up in the cold war... | OVER THE OCEAN | dark vicious poems... | a poem | High poem | what could have been... |

Just people

Words fail me
Sentences derail me
Thoughts ought to set me free
But they drag me down with new responsibilities
Catch 22s have got me in a fix
Why do people have to be such dicks
Adulthood a myth
Just children in suits and ties
Surrounding themselves with lies
And they like to blame each other
Oh brother!
Who’s gonna get the job done
New world order
Same rules
Made f...

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Also by Daniel Hooks:

hiroshima | my superstitions are eating me whole |

A postcard from Happiness

entry picture

The sunflower wished to share his seeds with everyone
As he lovingly tracked the sun
But they kept him in a cardboard box
All wilted
And the fire inside him never shone
This tragedy brings tears to the free
For they know what he misses
And what the perpetrator has done
And how petals unfolded bring beauty
But  this heartfelt core is shunned
What an offering for the world

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Sometimes graceful

always life-enhancing,

often battered, bombed or broken -


Hard to build, easy to destroy,

Years in the growing, rubble

in the time it takes

for an eye to widen.


An unforseen weakness,

a thoughtless moment,

an attack, neglect,

or simply being asked to carry

too much weight.


Wilder knew it was futile


Read more …

Also by Dave Bradley:

Write Out Loud Outstanding Poem For March | Family weekend |

Oxford 25/04

A man on a bike

Gargoyles in the sun

The smell of warm rain

And bones of a killer


Faltered to drop

A cigarette butt

The beauty made guilt

An accessible


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The Park Bench 'swing'.

Sweeping municipal buildings 

loom inward with principled overhang.

Swooping seagulls launch lazy graceless

glaze on parkland treetops.

Sweaty armpits seep from runners-

panting painful spittle.

Sweets in tiny mouths, sticky toffee fillings-

swapping dripping lollies for fizzled nectar bottled toothache.

Swooning mothers, strained and flustered-

cleansing scr...

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My mother used to believe she'd run people over...

entry picture


My mother used to believe she'd run people over
And would spend the long blue evenings
Circling the same roads looking for the aftermath
Of an incident she'd inadvertently caused.
It seemed normal then, driving round in the dying light,
Peering into hedgerows for fallen bodies,
Scanning the horizon for blue lights.
She'd massaged these distortions into a routin...

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Also by Tom Harding:

To A Teacher |

A Working-Class Family Go Out Shopping With Very Little Money, In The Hope That It'll Last 'Till The End Of The Week.

Put four pounds of petrol in the second-hand car

that was given to us by your sister,

it's all we can afford.

It should be enough to get us there and back,

maybe enough to see your mum in the week.

We'll just have to see how things go.

Drive past M&S

along Cryws Road,

and past all those shops that you like;

Waitrose - you're having a laugh!

Tesco - we wan...

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Threes Allowed - Haiku

entry picture

Yvette marks my neck

Martine kisses my pearl blush


I rub it better

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Also by Augusta Darling:

Indigo Gown | In A House Called 'Heaven' | On Such A Night |

He is gone

Got the news today,

Was only asking if all was ok,

Were your little family still happy,

I know its not been easy,

Two people, on drugs, trying to fight the evil hold,

Two people who I befriended

Two people who then became Three,

Oh happy times, with help,

Laughter, battles fought, with help,

New home, new life, determination, with help,

Child grows, first...

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Modern Saviour

He would certainly be admitted.

Who would believe

In the return of a prophet?

A dream realised

Is a failure in itself.

It belongs to the mind only.


To arrive in utopia

And find it is raining,

Earn the love

Of a perfect woman

Only to notice

She is a ghost.

This is proof

Dreams are for the mind only.


And as for the return

Of ...

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Also by Kealan Coady:

The Dawn Consequence | The Great Refrain. | I Wanted to be a War Photographer. | Becoming Real |

Para Dice

Para Dice

It's oh so nice in Para dice
Where your numbers are bound to show
Take my word and we'll take you there
Hurry up now - it's your time to go

Such are the empty promises,
We hear them all the time
Deceitful forms of marketing
Should they not have been made a crime

Some form of holiday making
A prize you won out of the blue
Special deals you just cant pass up

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Also by Dave Dunn:

Stave Off | Island Nations | And If... | Too Many | What's In Store | Spring Eternal |


Free the Word Experiences

International PEN - Free the Word Festival

Experiences of Volunteering by Alain English

Wednesday 14th April 7:45 pm Purcell Room, Queen Elizabeth Hall - Opening Event The Ex-Empire Strikes Back with James Kelman, Olive Senior and Margaret Busby.  Chaired by Profile Writer Maya Jaggi.

Some weeks before this event, I registered to volunteer with the Free the Word Festival with Inter...

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Also by Alain English:

Autistic Superstars | Future Gigs | Children of Annie - a tribute to Annie Inglis 1922 -2010 |

Smoking my life away

entry picture

To comfort me in times of trouble, to have and told

to lovingly clasp, like hasp and staple

if only I was still able to grasp and cling to the wrists

of the family that deserted me years before

for the same lost cause - I forget I'm not a little girl anymore.


Yet it makes no difference, I wasn't even legal before I succumbed to this evil -

for Heaven's sake, it...

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Also by S.J.:

Look Beyond (2) | Look Beyond (1) |


Mr Relaxed


Theres a guy the opposit of ambitious

Adverse to pinstripes,order, folders

and all things typed


Hates the words modules, schedules and meetings

Loathes all food with meat in


Has no time for time

sees the grouchy nature of clocks

and the bilingual nature of colour.

Rejoices in the serenity of empty

and the shape of plans unmade



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Paediatrician in the corner

 There’s a paediatrician in the corner

Staring over at me

There are Islams in the bushes

Planting bombs with the hedges

There are asbos in my loft

Raving on the rafters

There are single mums in the kitchen

Moving up the council house waiting list

There are immigrants in my front room

Taking all my jobs

There’s no climate change on my roof

We threw the...

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Gentlemen Of Fortune

entry picture

I have sailed the seven seas and survived to tell the tale

I have felt the ocean breeze as it whistles through the sail

We have searched for buried treasure, these buccaneers and me

Yet we do not fear the gibbet, for dooty is dooty...


In the quayside tavern waiting to depart

Men of blackened teeth and blackened heart

Gentlemen of Fortune are we

Tellin' tales of...

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despair creeps in
a semblance of half life
struggling for years
trying to put up with the strife
all thats come of it are shed tears
and boxes.

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Also by Liam Jones:

(untitled) | (untitled) | (untitled) |



for six days

the sky breathed


serenely blue

washed with dimpled sunshine

dappled clouds of long ago

whimsy on lazy wind

eye comfortable

content to be weather vanes


too soon

giant jets

score the atmosphere with carbon plumes

criss-crossing tic-tac-toe

skewed by schedules

and altitudes

heavy metal ...

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Also by Cynthia Buell Thomas:

Old Woman Waiting for a Bus II | Old Woman Waiting for a Bus | Coffee and Critics |

Unkindly remembering

entry picture

Take home,your false pity!

cry the pretentious tears not,

over this gentle Soul,freed from pain.

just one  sincere  thought of him,would have been sufficient.

but your thoughts fly in selfish elsewhere,s.


Flowers at least have their natural truths.

bright with joy for his life,wilting sorrowfully to loss.

leave them,to join with the eternal sleeper,

cast as...

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Goodbye To Thursday Street.

 Note:  Around 1980 a  group of streets in Manchester were being pulled down. They were  named after the days of the week, the occupants rehoused in modern high rises. These were not  successful and have been superceded much more successfully by  town houses. This poem is written about their demolition.

Goodbye To Thursday Street.

Under the bulldozer the terraced streets rushed,

 A ...

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Also by jane wilcock:

I Am The Very Model Of A Modern Parliamentarian |

To FarTed

entry picture

This time


Love of my life

I have had just about enough

Of your corduroyed flatulence


Perhaps it was the Eggs Benedict


The Guinness fried fish kedgeree

I suspect it just may have been

That together with the Scampi Brochette con Aglio

Not to mention

A breakfast glass of Sauternes


Will you never learn?


You pervade...

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Also by Gus Jonsson:

She is just a Gypsy Girl | Jack Came Dancing ( Re - Post Oct 2008) |

Attempting to Blog

Okay, so I thought "I'll start a blog! I'll be hip to the Google and finally cool. People will comment and I will be a Goddess!"  I created a page, did one entry and then I forgot the URL, didn't bookmark it and couldn't be bothered to blog anyway. That was about six months ago. 

In the spirit of...something, I've decided to try again. This is more suited to me, I think, because I get to pr...

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Her first smile of the day.
The breath of the Earth
through an open window
softly scented.
The stolen touch of an arm
as she brushes past;
electric hairs.
The unexpected glimpse of
new moon slither:
a precision cut knick
in the blue fabric of life.
The sickly sweet sweat
of passion, skin and biting lip.
Cold water on thirsty tongue,
and th...

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Also by mr stephen:

Cling Film |


entry picture
I let the pussy go today; he scratched me to get away
I told him to take the tool with him
Because it would prick me instead of helping me
I took the arrows out of my back
There are bits of stone left behind from the arrowheads
But I don’t feel them anymore
I took my four small bottles of Holy Water
And gave them to people who respect me

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Also by Lisa Milligan:

Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice | Cassie | Die Sonne (The Sun) | Waves Crash | My Father's Arm | Forget |

snow texts

‘Hey what are you doing?
Look out your window it’s snowing
(Do you know I love you?)
Amazing white faeries are floating down’

‘Oh yes it’s beautiful,
And thanks, I went outside to see,
(Yes I know you love me,)
Thanks for the text
(I know, so sad I don’t love you in return)

My tears are silently falling
Drifts of losing you pile upon my heart


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Also by Shoeless Carole:

swim |

The Search

entry picture

Sink into the bible’s words

Tales on a page as old as the wind


Crash into the rocks of knowing

Hear the alarm call of birds


Taste aniseed and coal

Dream of big bangs, atoms evolving


Greet the stranger, take his hand

Feel your body begin to rust


Look for the warning signs of death

Let your feet sink into the sand

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Ceci n'est pas une poeme...

Apologies Francine for my dreadful French but I have a little announcement:

 This afternoon at 3pm I will be plugging Wordsoup and it's 1st birthday party (tuesday 20th at the Continental) as I have a poem to be published in it's upcoming anthology, I will hopefully (amid my inane chattering and nervous giggling and dreadful faux-pas) get the chance to read a poem too..

 If you want to ...

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Also by Rachel McGladdery:

Lucy |

Stiff letter to the FA Premier League

Dear sirs, I am writing this letter

Re - the conduct of signor Arteta.

A poke in the eye

And you let it go by?

Surely your referees can do better?

Read and leave comments (2)

Also by Dave Carr:

Neck |

Show more entries …

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