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Coffin Kaddish on Erie

My seat is an open one. One of me-
Chant soliloquy and the begging for
The mercy shade, a place where all minds
Decelerate towards apocalypse and
A place where new roses found in the
Freezer are only breakfast for the cry-
ing. I sit to forget the motheaten
Assassin, should I grow from the window
Far enough to see the vein. Far below
Glass, far below: I sit to watch the ink,
The stenographers grow into tiny
Pestles and grind immaculate to dust.
Save my sinking road, Pennsylvanian coast,
One love who will not desert me today.





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