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LUNAR  TERCETS

Things are not as we would have them be.

The moon is not a yellow sow

hung from a meat hook

 

on a drab shed wall : it is a moon.

Ashes do nothing

while we sleep: they are trees.

 

satellites are not boys circling the lowback chairs

and record heaps of their drunken masters: they are machines.

The broad-hipped distended from stepping in the foam

 

is not someone going to wet her legs

but no-one, phantom without live taxis.

She thinks,Ships in the night are cruel ships.

[……]

 

alberti3(alberti#3)

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