Wednesday, August 5, 2009



Thirteen Robinson Crusoes all in tweed
Before a hole to bury Caesar
To know this is to care
In our own pockets the same idea and number
The lonesome half the trundled someone
The earth in a box
The hat protected
The chapel changes and wife messiahs
We look to Thursday and the long holy nose
On the possible mummies
The first thing that strikes anybody
A bit of clay
An unborn child.

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