remember it mattering
the day after
the twisted roots of April
do cover your head with
your hands and remember, then
and its promised oblivion
do you remember the cold brotherhood
you felt to the other
your hates and loves
your spectacular jealousies
mounted on TV
the movies and the huge
submarine logos
that circle even now the sea
like a ghastly uncle unheard
in the attic, screaming to nobody.
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