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Friday, September 05, 2003

it was an
ability, that cut thru
a sentence
and Vietnam
was clear. the people
wormed thru
the syntax
that was avid
and bright
like the sad piano
hanging in the tree.
there was a
closing
of fealty
over the impress,
and bombs
were gathered by the ton
to sign the document.
this was a trap
for other words
and a national
tryst
with empty.
square miles
with people, a
still life.

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