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Bucks Row

Bucks Row

 

gaslight lamps

cast pools of sickly yellow

and the cobble stones

glisten with evening rain

a smell of burnt stew

drifts in with the stirring

of fog and smoke

that wraps your legs

in cobwebs and candyfloss

a street sellers distant call

proclaiming hot chestnuts

while a dog pisses

against a bollard of black iron

blood spills from an alleyway

...

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1888autumn of terrorbucks rowjack the ripperpolly nichollswhitechappel

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