Rereading that which you taught me how to read: the poet
With the halting forceful voice.

Outside the steel carts from which food is peddled to the semi-suits that pour
Out to fill weekday noontimes are being washed down by hand despite it having just rained

These days I sleep and speak the way the dogs they sleep and speak —
Halting, forceful, mouthing at the moon

Though every saint I have called ever upon in weakness has without notice changed their names and address

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