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The Poetry Society of New York

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The Poetry Society of New York
June 28, 2015

The Poetry Society of New York
June 28, 2015

Robert foot hurts. We are on scooters. The dog Akiko is remembering she likes to pull the scooters as if she was a sled dog. We are by the big mystical tree. I wrote three books on typewriters like this. The finger sinking

into a pool with each stroke. After the drain. All is wet. Breath is

moisture.

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