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93 Gorji Guano Draped was the sun’s face, His glimpse of it vibrated his larynx His pen embraced the paper we yearned And the flesh of the leafy castle this tore: Our head’s. he then his shackles commanded As that of Lilliput for Gulliver’s. His hounds crooked their knees, Behind BARS lashed Him, though one, called at this Association. Thermis’ cadaver met he there To respire thanks to her reproaches, Queen of the Isles, thank U! Gorji I now know the inner colour of the sun’s face. ...

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