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Friday Ukraine

Bring early your best of the Earth And without Summon, Our partner is Greenland According to the NSA It is time to reveal Why putin is alone in a bog Digging for treasure Like Diffie-Hellman and its day For not knowing to wear The best approval of the Sun You are held, Ukraine, By the Arms of The Virgin Mary And are not forgotten Ever- Ever!

Amen

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Roscosmos

Simple at dawn And blinking two bits To the star of machinery At both poles and unknown Firing henwood and Dolby A Off to the pains of Saturn To reach a point of clear And killing children In the name of God

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By The Racetrack

Was four courses of Colombian gem In supposed of a Commodore- An Angel of God Who stuffed trinkets and maps and bits of Wormwood For your Defence against Iran And Christians unite- Behind Rome and Tarsus For the lessening of pain in an instant There were two small shawls of paint Dressed unto the dispose of small towels And prayers of being This is putin’s hangover A testament of the village That was burned for Roscosmos

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Disorder For The Enemy

Times twelve You were East German and loved the lottery And loved paining women and how they were aware Somedays are sworn to geese Others to traffic And Saturday’s dawn In the centre of convenience Was a Kilimanjaro Not for sale But expected as a present For putin Who taled of Peter And his underdeservance of A great land- of the wild That surrenders mecca To the Swedish As for daily mail to the wicked To the Russians who aren’t at home Have no class of thought Why putin is dead