--Matthew RohrerWe are even more modernwe are freenot to knowpining piningtil the trees are intheir autumn beautywho knows whywe are freean LP of poetryleft on in the apartmentwhile I walk my loveto the subwayshe turns to goldin the light banking offthe ball-fieldsand to have to thinkof that smallpale body asleepI return I take the stairs3 at a timeand now my heart is sore
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