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Vermin
VERMIN
A broken body, matted red,
tossed in the air by wailing hounds.
The quick, brown fox is spinning, dead,
amid the banshee bugle sounds.
The inane braying still abounds
when port is drunk and fables spill,
about the right of man to kill
an animal who, turning back,
stood proud and noble on the hill
and faced the crimson vermin pack.
Friday 25th January 2013 1:22 pm
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