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March 2011 April 2011 May 2011 June 2011 July 2011
Pig and a China Dude
(no pseudonyms have been used here)

Here lies the littlest, most precious strains of idea and obscure schools of thought. If you are looking to escape into a world of wonder to seek an enclave to fascinate and liven your souls from the trappings of the Dull Real World, you have come to the perfect little hideout.

Trudge on, gentle readers, into the enchanting Unknown and immerse yourselves in the loveliness of Life.

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Monday, May 30, 2011
give me your finger, let me lead you

JUST ONE GLASS OF THIS AND: you will rocket into a psychedelic universe filled with other parallel universes where other parallel universal creatures with bright neon green heads and electric blue feet live and spiral whirl-al twirl-al you into an abyss of melody and colour and garish riotous fun and plunge you into the twinkling depths of black and blue.

Are you game?

-TheChinaMan

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Wednesday, May 25, 2011

i wouldnt, i wouldnt, you know -
even if you were nice
and gave me chocolate rice
stuffed with nuts and cut up chives
and bought me cups of ice
and scratched my head my head my full head of lice
and made me feel alive
and told me your name was Clive
and wrote me a poem so blithe
and  
and
and.
i still wouldn't, you know. 
i wouldn't. 

- TheChinaMan

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Saturday, May 14, 2011
if You were on the menu, I would order You all day.

They took your hair,
they took your rogue,
they took them all to the kitchen cook.
I tasted its flair,
I licked its skin bare,
I never knew the apples of your cheeks tasted so good.

-TheChinaMan

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Tuesday, May 10, 2011
The Lonely Pickle.

"You are different from the rest, I noticed you while you sat by the fountain of gravy, your skin so green, so bruised, so ugly, so lovely," said the onion ring to the pickle.

"But I am a sausage, just like the rest," replied the pickle.

-TheChinaMan

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Thursday, May 5, 2011
A Poem for Mama.

Dear Mama, I wrote you a poem:

Papa Bear and Baby Bear cooked their food
 stealing their neighbour's shadow and light.  
Mama Bear knew they were up to no good
(but it was too late - 
for she was already mixed in), 
along with the shadow and light. 

Love, Baby Bear

-TheChinaMan

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Sunday, May 1, 2011
The last meal

My lover cooked me carrot pasta for dinner and I ate while she stared. Five minutes later, shegotupwentintothekitchencameoutandstabbedmewithabutterknife. I should have known. I never did like carrot. 

-TheChinaMan

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