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Update for Francis Joseph The quiet Danube eases past the quays As though all meanings and all things which freight Already had been borne away: a silt For deltas, wreckage in the Dardanelles. Restorers raise a time that never was, Of ruins recent and without pathos, As if some Japanese film studio Put up Vienna’s separate but equal For the reptile monster to destroy: High octane breath on Buda, panicking The restaurants of Pest. Or as if each Had been constructed as the other’s folly, The bridges in between them all their real. What Romany the Germans did not gas Are violinists in the restaurants. One cannot know if Lehár stole from them Or they from Lehár. It will be “Play, Gypsy” When the Bomb has fallen. Centuries Of occupation by the Ottomans Have left at least a Turkish bath, intact And functioning, a crescent on its dome. Or is it sickle without hammer, Marx As emblem put to rout? Crusades and creeds Come each apart. The Double Eagle split. 44 You are reading copyrighted material published by Ohio University Press/Swallow Press. Unauthorized posting, copying, or distributing of this work except as permitted under U.S. copyright law is illegal and injures the author and publisher. ...

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