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3 Trickster The more I struggle The worse it gets. I buy a coat, then I’m too thin to wear it. I buy a house, then Wind covers it in smoke. I make a garden, then Wind covers it in smoke. I sit in my house coughing. I write a poem, then You assume my poem Is about you, then You hate my poem. “You’re a liar,” you say. How was I to know You were thin, your garden Was covered in smoke That you sat in your house Coughing? ...

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