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Rehearsal For An Auction

A fisher’s knife above the fruit
just when they flip the workroom switch

Three apples there with sun patches
but Holland saw them first

I worry aloud into the valley
of my wife’s false attentions

We can’t command the pen’s oval
these days says her face

pressed against an ivory mirror
Go people the Low Country yourself

My comb is furthermore
my brush and I need to tease out

the pigment and stems
from this spittling crown of windmills
Posted 11/18/11
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