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modern poetry

where shall i find you
it was a tall young oysterman
from floor to ceiling
i know what you're going to say
her face is fair and smooth and fine
at dawn, he said
when, full of warm and eager love
did you ever see an alligator
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
perhaps
so fallen
here falls no light

 



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