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Corrigenda I take it back. The crow doesn't have red wings. They're pages of dust. The woman in the dark room takes the barrel of a .357 magnum out of her mouth, reclines on your bed, a Helena Rubinstein smile. I'm sorry, you won't know your father by his darksome old clothes. He won't be standing by that tree. I haven't salted the tail of the sparrow. Erase its song from this page. I haven't seen the moon fall open at the golden edge of our sleep. I haven't been there like the tumor in each of us. There's no death that can hold us together like twin brothers coming home to bury their mother. I never said there's a book inside every tree. I never said I know how the legless beggar feels when the memory of his toes itch. If I did, drunkenness was then my god & naked dancer. I take it back. I'm not a suicidal mooncalf; you don't have to take my shoelaces. If you must quote me, remember I said that love heals from inside. N EON V ERN A C U L A R ...

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