Summer 1996 • Vol. XVIII No. 3/4 Poetry |

Creation

from the Chinese.   generations' and generations' creation troubles me for example, the night scurries over law   there is always a reason for a dog barking madly at the fog a ship sails in short waves the lighthouse forgotten by me no longer hurts like a pulled tooth a randomly opened book disturbs the landscape after its rescue the sun rises those people for loneliness' sake line up stamping their feet a rush of bells brings them rhymes   or else what remains rosy clouds laugh on the glass the elevator descends, yet there is no hell a man dismissed by his country passing through a dazed siesta comes to the beach, dives to the water's bottom

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