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It Never Ends
Like a pin ball
Flipped by the New Moon
Flipper,
Rolling, racing, happily,
Ecstatically,
Madly from bumpers
To buzzers to lights,
Riding the edges
Of tilt and outshoots
Slapped by the Full Moon
Flipper
Back into the flashing
The beeps and the buzzes,
Until a slip on
An angle
And it’s between the flippers
Into who knows where
Or how and why
There’s a sudden kick
In the ass and you’re shot
Back into the bings
And the bongs
The smiles and the laughter
Lovers getting it on.
Stephen Nesbitt ©
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