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THE EURYDICE CHORUS I Ken Vifer Like a black dog at the shore's sharp edge, I prick my ears, I watch my step, I Usten to the water barking, I put my right foot near my left. Bodies that return to grasses. Bodies of fire. Bodies of ashes. Like a rat before its tiny grotto, clawing awkwardly at the water, I see myself twitch Uke a finless fish, circUng, gnawing, breathless, spent. Bodies of muck. Bodies of water. Bodies of love. Governing bodies. Bodies for Eurydice to sing in, sinking in a fen among smaU ferns. No one strays, I hear her thinking. No one stays who touches earth. Galactic bodies. Tibetan saints. Bodies that return to space. Spiders climb our body fibers. Red ants carry off smaU breaths. Life is short. We fuck like crazy. Who could ask for anything less? The Missouri Review ยท 127 ...


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