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Saturday, March 11, 2017



O what limb-rending pains in furrows by thy lightnings rent.

This is eternal death, and the torment long foretold.

William Blake, "America, A Prophecy"

East, at midnight the sun falls, and all

Congress is in purdah,

eating caviar; fish sweat perfumes the hall.

Yma Sumac steams cha chi cha,

bison blues;  for the West her story has no news.

Jerry W. Ward, Jr.                            March 11, 2017

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