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The Poetry of Robert
Mapp
***** Untitled I
by Robert Mapp
Their digging a tunnel to my cell,
I know,I can tell.
They thought I would not know.
But I can tell.
I'm on the three's,up in the sky.
But I know,
I can tell.
That the tunnenel to my cell,
Is on its way,
Through red brick or steel,
Nothing can stay,
That tunnel to my cell.
When one day,
That tunnel gets its way.
Leave the cell.
No more need to stay.
Time done,
I'm on my way.
*****
Untitled II
by Robert Mapp
Thai guy chef.
Chalemchat Tangjariyapoon.
When of Nam Prik Pao he made.
Entertained a police raid.
For three hours the road,
to the public was closed.
A copper with big pot,
said" this pot is fair cop"'.
Drove of with the lot.
To Scot Yard cop shop.
Crackers following behinds. *****
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