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recommended, National Poetry competition, 2003 Mr.
Irresistible, Shoestring Press, 2005 Mr Panutka's finest hour
Mr. Panutka purses his mouth and, after some thought, moves two pins an infinitesimal distance somewhere to the south of a left shoulder-blade as, on tiptoe, he circles the general and head on one side runs his eyes, knowing as a starling's, across collar, vents, button-holes, lapels, appraising the miracle, this cut of the cloth, this way he has persuaded it to hang, mercifully by-passing that which the general still thinks of as his waist and this is Mr. Panutka's finest hour, this, he realises now, is what he was born for - to measure, cut and fit, to tack and sew these fragile threads to-and-fro across his President's dress uniform in which, very soon, though Mr. Panutka does not yet know this, General Ramon Garcia Ramirez will be shot, at ten o'clock exactly on the morning of June the fifth, by one of the mothers whose sons he tortured and, smiling over his coffee, fed to the flesh-eaters in his shimmering lily pool.
Angela Kirby
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