the attachments and magnifications,
the zero, the focus
the difference between us and snakes
as if our calendars with kittens
and our arithmetic exist
our april thirty fifth when
the foam mouthed clerics
of many stripes or hats, remember
sunrises, dried and big eyed over prisons
and lovers sleeping on the grass
convinced that nothing else exists
except a whisper of jazz behind the cash register
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