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Cyndi Lauper Turns 80
wings on silk
dancing small, on fragile fingers
dancing, tonight
on some kind of neon, pink sea
ancient, wooden boats will sail
forgotten sailors will be eaten
by moths:
you’ll fall...
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June Ledger
Prologue:
Hours linger on the patio
like a tired old dog;
the sky is under no obligation,
the wind is conserving its energy,
the neighborhood waits quietly
for nothing in...
