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40 Hotel Balcony This crib is bolted firmly to the wall. From here I watch the sea, its shades of green, And save the junebugs crashing on the screen From dying upside down.With stupored crawl, And plodding flight, they make fine toys, as psalms Break loose from sparrows passing by. I glance At people milling home and think of ants, Then nod at someone leaning on his palms Across from me, who stares at something lost The way we gaze from windows of a train At places we won’t ever see again; And life unwinds, as if it had been tossed Like a “Surprise Ball” from our place of birth, Unwrapping trinket glimpses of the earth. ...

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