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Poems from Mortal Companions |
Spectrum Elegy | ||
for Louis Rose | ||
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Ribbon of violet draped on shoulders, gun Makeshift ghost, you ransacked country roads The blue of your mechanic’s veins No one ever grew green with desire for you: I snagged a loop of my soul on your machine, You were a genius at cards: Play this one! you’d say, against your round-the-corner straight. Then the blood came |
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A Six-Pointed Star |
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1 When I touch my scalp 2 Your face is beautiful in the dim light 3 When I scrub your limbs 4 I tossed you the ball underhand, The swing holds you up I push you out again, Each time I push you out 6 How well you've learned Daughter, |
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Miss Curtin |
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Marguerite Curtin, 68, was found clubbed to death in her Ozone Park home Tuesday. |
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Note in a daily newspaper |
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She must have been sleeping She must have been lulled by the rush One thing is clear: she didn’t hear * * * I remember her in her brightness, could not conceal the rise and fall the tiniest sparks of wit and insight. and short temper, but also the nosebleeds |
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The Firetruck |
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When books are burnt, humans will be burnt in the end. |
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—Heine |
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The firetruck is moving always * * * The firetruck * * * Rain beads on leaves along the highway: * * * Heine knew the world would flame out |
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