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About This Poem
Peacetime Summer Reds
The morning night thunder-shone
The bright stars fractured me
You in sudden surprise
Whirling in your misgivings
Baby gulls sit on our heads
And we weep forgetting to be merry
Broad is the scope of infinity
Meet me in brackish waters
Death to focus
Death to style
Come worming up to the hole
Peacetime summer reds
I can eat a clock and dream of orangutangs
Forgive these latches
Remove them
Remove them
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