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A watchful neighbour might attest,

he is not one to shout

A watchful neighbour might

be hard of hearing

The whisper when it comes

bubbles on the lips, dribbles off the vest


before it has a chance to form,

evolve into a


A maroon snail backfiring

at the traffic stop

A splash

A mollusc sewn with the bends

An atheist grown secular

as a dung beetle at a donkey convention

An ass courting elephant ears

The shout that is stifled at the straw poll,

the bellow that rattles around the waterhole

The roar that is the exquisite fruit

of assembly lines given over to rust

between 3 and 4 AM.

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