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I was thinking of somebody else
a woodpecker lighted on the locust tree,
slid into the arm of it--
I thought of you, stubby, pecking
at the world with your jokes--
you are one of my folks: dark-skinned,
plastic belt, a vegan smoking Marlboros,
scarfing down Devil Dogs at midnight,
selling waterbeds, now with a wife and
a Tribeca boy, in your last summer
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the story of michael
ruth lepson |