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NauenThen

Poem

Listen, Phoebe

 

Listen, Phoebe, to the wind I've made for you 

out of ancient hopes & crushes

out of squirrels I hate birds I didn't

gather round to tell me my business

 

flashes that might be bugs at the side of my eyes

I jump away from things I do well

& things not worth doing

& things in gold on another man's rump

 

A wind that will find for you 

a silver needle in green glass & that cat

 

Listen, Phoebe, we will stay away

spend hour after hour 

wanting less until all that's life 

is love until all that's love is left

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