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thanksgiving poem

i despise my friends more than you
very well, you liberals
daughters of time
evidenced in the glimmer in your eyes
who will be naming the wind
she must go back, she said
her face is fair and smooth and fine
with lips blood red and heart of stone
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
when i was a boy at college
white foam flower, red flame flower
mysterious night


 



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