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33 Le Presbytère Desperation: no medley or melody, nothing symphonic In the pell-mell bird-noise or even mnemonic, Nothing you’d even want to remember for that matter, Notes pecking at noteworthy, a SaturDay night university bar scene on a weekday morning In a jacaranda tree.Then, without warning, The flock cleared, perhaps adjoined to the pretty objects Of their desire; but whether sky or sex, Wanderlust, fawning, or even playfulness lay behind The sudden vacancy and silence, I found Your voice there, and talk of breakfast, simple words— And was glad to be rid of the pompous birds. ...

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