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Poem	the vultures at the zoo (all three of the) sit very quietly in their caged tree and below on the ground are chunks of rotten meat. the vultures are over-full. our taxes have fed them well. we move on to the next cage. a man is in there sitting on the ground eating his own shit. i recognize him as our former mailman. his favorite expression had been: "have a beautiful day." that day i did.
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