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6 The Good Life 1. Pines twist in a spring gale. I dig weeds before they flower & spread Spook pink Worms, am friend to Robins Plainspoken trees & leafless brambles can’t confuse: I lime the lawn to feed grass, kill the moss sure of my allegiances— shade for Orange Cat, seeds for Chickadees . . . light losing its dull grief Ravens traveling two-by-two. 2. I take a hacksaw to the Laurel, make visible a path—this was our plan, after all, I must prune the garden of uselessness, guilty you must burn the sausages, this was our plan to break siege, the slow attrition to put our profits in the future— this sliver of land, our grass alive with newborn Spiders, Night Crawlers that retreat into themselves— I crank a wave of seeds dirt under my nails, your hands washing mine before we fled. ...

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