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On a street in America
as in Rome, a woman
whose husband is in Germany
leaves home.
The butcher folds his bloody towel
and sings.
The banker thinks of sail boats
on white water.
Goodnight says the plumber’s daughter.
I love you says the sky.
Shirtless men under cold front clouds
watch an orange star
rise.
Vol. 1, no. 1, 1974