How the arms moved
throwing the poet's
ashes out of the boat
how it all comes back

How the whole story
form of telling curves
the story around
these cosmic corners

How the stars swarm
how the moon
was dying down
out over the water

To loosen out into
those big quiet waters
little pieces of
us all are floating on

(tom clark, "for robert duncan," from exquisite corpse)

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