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In seclusion, at the edge of

a vast hot tub, there was a boy,

looking for his mother.  she sat in steam

room, smoking a filtered cigarette.  she held

a can of cranberry sauce beside her

and it exploded

while she was asleep, from the heat and pressure,

when the impressionable child came to

see his mum, she was splayed across

and covered in goop, the green vinyl punctured

by fructis.

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