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Poem of the Week

I Believe


the crocus is the state

flower of

 South Dakota       if

that is                  it's

    the same as the


       in Pasque

Petals the official

organ of the South Dakota State Poetry

      society to which my mother long belonged.

She wrote

a sonnet

about a


but I don't remember any lines with




sweetest              with ocean

fuck (certainly


      mapmaker or pine

Spruce perhaps

since the state tree

of South Dakota

is the

Black Hills


& we often vactioned at


Lake the real name of which is Spearfish          my mother

took me      to a poets luncheon       at which

an advanced younglady

read cummings'

buffalo bill's defunct ("now how

       do you like

        your blue-eyed boy

mister death")

which I instantly

knew was my favorite poem

& went out & bought

my first book of poetry       The Collected Poems of

Leonard Cohen


circa 1984


I'm still a bit jet-lagged & have to moderate a public conversation tonight & want to take a nap & a bath first, hence a poem rather than a post today. I'll be in South Dakota next week.

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