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Of blood, of course. But also of this
Penny minted the year Kennedy was killed,
Passing from hand to hand like an assassin
In a crowd. Of air through lungs and leaves.
Of mercury from factory into spillway
Through gills into fish flesh through breast
Milk into newborn. Of the lie the president
Tells that sells the war to the populace.
Of the awful truths all lies become once
They’ve taken root. Of the water the sun
Raises Lazarus-like from the lake and which
Falls on the red umbrella of the woman
At the funeral. Of books checked out once
Every ten years by graduate students.
Of beer and urine. Of the wasting disease
That makes the starved deer stagger down
From the hills, killed crossing the highway.
Of the carrion the vultures carry in talons
Into the trees. Of the dead and the daisies.
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