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after the phalanx

the shields have borne soldiers forborne
the stilled laughing of their cohorts minxes
the cities laughing
 
after all the Languedoc doctors and all the
fish physicians
have come and gone
 
and all the platters have been
spun
 
there comes a time the time of
sparkle and cork and
crudités
 
there now I've said it in French
 
it forbears the soupçon of a ladle
 
but plunges in face-first

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