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The attic's a mess with moth-bitten coats and the ugly, brown Depression Furniture is ground up and sprinkled like ashes on the lake My grandfather bought this hat once. Wore it all day in a day I never saw. He died in a war to be scattered on this hardwood floor A white door painted shut to keep out the smell and broken picture frames He is sealed in now Embalmed and pressed In the same suit he wore to visit the President. He is alive in the pictures and books and indefatigable clothes.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

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