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Best Mopped Poems


The Fever Came and the Good Lord Mopped His Brow
The fever came and the good lord mopped his brow.

The sterile little needle punches a nice round bloody hole
I had to see the doctor because the sweat had grown so cold
I’ve got a ten pound prescription worth a bag of brown and gold
Now I have...

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Categories: mopped, art, drug,
Form: Free verse

Book: Reflection on the Important Things