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second fugue | 6 | |
of all the modern divisions: time splits | 8 | |
maybe he wears my trousers: lagniappe | 9 | |
triptych | 10 | |
studs and rings: favors of the piercing party | 11 | |
he pleasures me: a nasty flick. quiescent | 12 | |
slashed his foot as a boy. heel to toe | 13 | |
the mind is a shapely genital. faces: elaborate | 14 | |
personal | 15 | |
a conch: I washed ashore on more than one atoll | 16 | |
my father and me making dresses: together | 17 | |
my father and me in hollywood: fading and rising starlets | 18 | |
my fingers have performed their services: church steeple people | 19 | |
simple endings overlap: grief is interference | 21 | |
the sad part of living is eating and dying | 22 | |
sounding the depths: she slides into the bath | 23 | |
attended by miracles. every man has two angels | 24 | |
sheet wrapped as a burnoose. about his head | 25 | |
the agricultural application of burial | 26 | |
your torso: enticing to insects like me | 27 | |
remembering the taste of skin: dim prehistory of dives | 28 | |
choose equal weights: berries and sugar | 29 | |
the minotaur at supper: spare the noritake and the spode | 30 | |
darling can you kill me: with your mickeymouse pillows | 31 | |
thinking the think that falls away: my soul he has no hours to waste | 32 | |
you're thin again handsome. in our last | 33 | |
always returning: holidays and burials. not every week | 35 | |
not the treats of quince blossoms. in this rainy cycle the yards | 36 | |
autumn set us heavily to task: unrooted the dahlias | 37 | |
splat in the oatmeal: granddaddy facedown | 38 | |
here comes the welcome wagon with its | 39 | |
women stitching apron corners together neighborly | 40 | |
the future rose: an a-frame on the cumberland | 41 | |
splitzville for ann and mark: the tourniquet | 42 | |
he achieved his escape: john wesley | 43 | |
orphans of career day: the choicest lives already | 44 | |
down with the chickenbumps you came: kerplunk | 45 | |
he imitates his wife: no young drop from the gap | 46 | |
dearest perdition. your sweet peach kisses lost | 47 | |
baby's on a pallet. in the screenporch you iron | 48 | |
sonnet | 49 | |
the rain deliberately falls: as an older boy's hand | 50 | |
old age keeps its reservation. nostalgia | 51 | |
we all carry signs of our obsessions | 53 | |
third-world hunger strikes you. midtown bus | 54 | |
in the new genesis: a part of his skeleton became me. shaped me | 55 | |
you don't have syphilis. the doctor says | 56 | |
because as lives are aching I am lucky: a poisonal cup | 57 | |
in the course of travel: strychnine every few hours. some italian art | 58 | |
when dementia begins: almost makes sense like hamburger translations | 59 | |
cherry elixir: the first medication. so mary poppins | 60 |
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