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Her
Finest Hour
Its April 1st and Im still a fool to want you, bang my head against the ice machine in this season of perennial faintings. |
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| the giant amaryllis | a mess on the floor | |||
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&
so we are cheated out of some fabulous dying thing:
Alice, said the Hare, you are a girl. Mean irony! Its awful to be two things at once. For example, as in Rudy Burckhardt, Swiss and disillusioned (shows photo Times Square Building, 1947) Well, what I love about New York is that it just grew up wildly. amidst slender cast iron columns & dreadful posturings that snapshot of Dinah in the studio holding her scotch & rocks she looked simply grand and not at all ... it was impeccably contrived and the Furies? only birds at icy altitudes in her last recordings, in the achy 5 oclock New York rain unsteady on the sidewalk. She meant to be so frail but only gained in constancy. sad truth: a burnt piano key |
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