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Steve Shepherd: two poems



1974 jason sits for hours blonde hair curtaining his downturned face eyes fixed on the pale refracted bait intended for the eel he alone believes is there


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karmic agony in tromso under northern lights, and oil of cloves in the caves of lascaux. bloody extractions in my forties then at fifty-three, my mouth half empty, the pain ceased and I wondered, have I paid in teeth?



Steve Shepherd writes poems and takes photographs. He used to make radio programmes, mostly jazz.

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