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The Things I Want
Shiver me. I used to—no, I still do—
love pirates
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The kerchief and gold hoop earring,
bang and flash
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of the cannon. It is a pose
I suppose, an
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ear for shanties, a sip of rum
to leech because
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piracy goes on and on like the
sea. Don’t wave
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goodbye to the waves. We need to ride
that ship with
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bones and skull, the smile in my most
desperate
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sleep. No, I have never met one and
doubt I ever
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will nor pirate anything myself.
The things I
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want are tropes.
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Click here to read this poem on juked
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