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45 V i s i t you’ve brought flowers? rather a rag or a wrench, something to catch in my gears. you can see there’s no religion here. my dervish whirls without a prayer. have a seat. i’ll take the air! i have hiccups under my skin, these tics, little lovers, i’ve married them. What might my fingers be? Women buying yard goods or catholics at beads. This other hand’s a kind of a claw caught in a vise. i’m one side fire, one side ice! see how my faces swim? That current’s always in. Look! i’m upstream again. i’ll do 1,000 rPms plugged in like this. i’m the latest sisyphus. The daffodils will mind themselves, they’ll behave, they’re hardly in the way. Their yellows calm the air, make such a quiet. yellow peace, i would close my mouth on it. (for Leonard, Post-Encephalitic) ...

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