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Trouble in the bubble

By: James Stokes
Competition Year: 2012
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The tiny people I can see.
How rough our lego town is.
But from afar, the town smooths out.
Lakes and roads become, puddles & tracks, & cracks.
Trapped in our little crust.
Passing the time with jobs & art & music & such.
So much to do, but for what, in our little duplo lives.

The LUST programmed into us.
The FEAR of death.

We take our spades.
We dig; down to the dark; buried in black; a jack.
We fly; up in the blue. Not a care.

Cumulonimbus gives me cunnilingus. A cheeky blowy.
Trapped in our lego atom.
Tied down, the trees are all made of cotton.
A blue peter world, rendered rotten.

BOHR was so right. We jostle and bustle
And settle for the kettle when the day has been long.

A good cup of tea can set us all free.
But a brew will never launch us out there.
Only BOHR knows what to do.
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