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17 The Ocean May Have Been the LastThing She Saw In line at the marina liquor store, She’d grip the fifth of vodka like an oar, Then row around in circles half the night, And raise, with her Atlantic-colored eyes, A thousand toasts to the impervious skies. She liked to drink until she had to squint To see one moon above the reef, and spent Her days marooned on a chaise longue with white, Redundant waves and shipwrecked suns. Now gulls And hungry cormorants huddle in the shoals, Where seahorse babies curl around the grasses And broken seashells mingle with her ashes. ...

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Additional Information

ISBN
9781597097000
Print ISBN
9781597090063
MARC Record
OCLC
868083249
Pages
88
Launched on MUSE
2014-01-01
Language
English
Open Access
N
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