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To Simon Perchik's previous piece
Where is the poison that these crossbones :the chainlink fence and its gate opens --no one though the guard still writes names on a list --he doesn't ask anymore. He knows I will run at the fence shaking it with the cries that can't fall through that separate :tears that stop at stone --he knows I will kneel though there is no cheek to touch must know why I come, my stench carried off on his lungs and I rattle this fence as if its bones could find the skulls grow back their voices and fingers once the Furies would have clasped, their dreaded rust avenge and my blood too tighter and tighter reeks an invisible name an emptied sun, a no one.
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