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Gassy Human Stations

Three months Quarantine
added no Quinine

No Rose Mary(Corona-red)
came for me
but added
a bombing
gas one
machine

Have you not
the flavour/toxity
experienced
it's been ages

Style / type: 
Free verse
Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

Hi lovedly, I'm rather confused by your poem. It's so sad about the gas chambers, but I don't relate them to our quarantine, by no means. The last strophe is quite a mix. I think you mean "toxicity" or "toxic", right?
No, with all respect, I don't "get it", just me, I guess. A virtual hug, keep safe.

*
*
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Know then thyself, presume not God to scan,
The proper study of Mankind is Man.
Plac’d on this isthmus of a middle state,
A being darkly wise, and rudely great….

An Essay On Man, III, Alexander Pope.

perhaps misled
How do you now feel
Kindly reread
Note
metaphorical poetry
all about indigestion
no exercise ma'am

author comment

Hi lovedly, back again. I understand it better now. Nice one. Just the last strophe:

Have you not
the flavour/toxity
experienced
ages (it's) been

Perhaps "it's been ages"?

All the best, Gracy

*
*
*
Know then thyself, presume not God to scan,
The proper study of Mankind is Man.
Plac’d on this isthmus of a middle state,
A being darkly wise, and rudely great….

An Essay On Man, III, Alexander Pope.

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