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Pluralities
Ralph Adamo
I hate that you are on the other side this evening
If I go somewhere to cry for you how will I stop
I hope this finds you well. It's been too long,
I typed when you were already gone.
Listening to you talk
over there is like
listening to water
I compose
you are here
music breaking whitely
one track crossing over another
to reach disaster
against one breeze
and feel the summer's cascade
buggy and wet in my blood
I a sunken man with an old nose and long eyes
wind-shredded
used to the way little becomes less
unprepared for bounty
whittling sorrow down to its toothsome size
****
The little house of my dead first wife
blows me a kiss as I go past
on wheels, the sidewalk cracks
then I am on the other side, again.
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