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PURCHASE THE DIGITAL COLLECTION (2013)
Ronald Wilson Reagan
B. 2.6.1911 Tampico, Illinois / D. 6.5.2004 Los Angeles
You shook your indifferent wattles
or was that the wind shaking them
the wind or a breath, held then expelled
by your handmaidens, handlers, or grooms.
Your mane was pomaded, silk-heavy; it fell
in thick locks, when required to,
over your brow, like a blessing—
or was it disguising your brow:
High in the mind’s eye, in memory high
in fact not so.
Your brow was narrow.
You tossed your pomaded wattles and narrowed your eyes
and in fact there was a pile of corpses in the street
and maybe more than one; your eyelids
like phone books, like rolls of roofing lead:
That heavy. You narrowed your bright eyes
but they kept rolling.
Consolation Site: Fiddle, Fit as
: back : / : forth :