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  • Sam Hacking

Don't let Magpies bury your hair


Shopping centres.


Feet dance

shoes twist, turn, stop, lift.


Gold hoop earrings.


Dogs on tubes are funny.


Milk bottle with a playing card in it.

a Lyles black treacle can, filled with brown sugar in a cafe.


My hair falls everywhere

if Magpies bury it, you die


Milk in tea,

swirling nebula, clouds trapped in dirty puddle.


Big gull on church steeple


Lacing canals and walk ways

bridges arch over, graffitied


Still fox on hill

a red ache in the sun


I'll never know what it was looking at

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