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THE PILLARS The rose hour ishanged, a euphoria heavy with warnings or withbaskets. I remember seeing baskets of lepers' rattles hung from a ceiling. They taught me whirligig and to live outwardly. Orpheus did not become a pillar of salt. Possession,therefore, outshines pity, outshines nostalgia. Illumination simultaneous with change would empty the dead. A trapeze is empty. A chandelier can be made to float against a mountainside, brightening as the mountain disappears and as the little orchestra regains the podium. Animals tremble into coherence. The beached whale's aerial remonstrance is a lovely example. Leviathan dies famous as well as useful. The figure of Orpheus should likewise die. I much prefer the deathbed conversion of Lot. How can I know what Lot's wife saw, what she may be 35 seeing still? The ghost-survival of two cities befouls God's justice. Where is a healthy man who shakes a leper's rattle as he goes? Death and the leaf nearest to the tree brighten at once. The low wall in the furnace smoke is full of holes. The rose hour is hanged. Its death vertigo escapes to a kitchen with doors beautifully painted. 36 ...

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