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63 My Audition I want to be you, with your audacious frugality And steamy existentialism, your resemblance To a first-growth forest that has burned and replaced itself In a healthy manner. I want to be your mop draped over the fence At the VFW. I want to be your VFW And dance around gently, Knocking over your checkers tables. I want to be your Freud figurine, Your Einstein chalk, your Tolstoy shoe, Your Marilyn Monroe compact, your Pancho Villa Alarm clock. I want to be you, you, you. A religion. ...

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