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T O S P I R I T S O F F I R E A F T E R H A R V E S T Between earth & its noun, i felt a fire . . . —What does it mean by “i,” Mrs? —It means, (& i quote): one of the vowels in the brain & some of the you’s—; we were interested in the type of thing humans can’t know, interested in kinds of think animals think —a rabbit or a skink! (Eumeces skiltonianus) when autumn brings a grammar, wasps circle the dry stalks & you can totally see through amber ankles dangling in dazzle under our lord the sun of literature— Between noon & its noun, there were ridged & golden runes on pumpkins . . . bluish gourds—in the fields . . . (their white eyes lined up inside)—Wait a sec. Please don’t nail the door shut. The air is friendly & non-existent as Veronica’s veil— . . . Earth, don’t torment your fool, your ambassador clown. Bring the x of oxygen & sex, a fox running sideways, through present noon— 3 ...

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