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Debate then Contemplation

She wanted gestures.    
Well here’s one, I said:    

The black country, earth and sky, 
darker than Prussia and 
riddled with ice-towers...  
You’ll have to look in there 
for any signs of regret.   

It was clear that she was down on me.   
Our providential alliance sat wasted like a large child 
    on ketamine.    

And she spoke:
Was she beautiful, did you love her...
I’m the only one who understands you, 
    for Christ’s sake!   

It is moments like this that slew Fourier and Marx...    
Saw them bent double at the hip, begging for leniency.      
They must have seen themselves, like me, looking into 
the eyes of both successor and aggrieved...

Watching her 
doing something with her g-string, eating kidney beans, 
scoffing, farting, arguing over holiday plans....
A young girl at the typewriter, 
rearranging the keys.

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