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In My Youth I Was a Tireless Dancer

 But now I pass
graveyards in a car.
The dead lie, unsuperstitiously, with their feet toward me-- please forgive me for saying the tombstones would not fancy their faces turned from the highway.
Oh perish the thought I was thinking in that moment Newman Illinois the Saturday night dance-- what a life? Would I like it again? No.
Once I returned late summer from California thin from journeying and the girls were not the same.
You'll say that's natural they had been dancing all the time.

by Edward Dorn
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