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Not Wolfman Librarian Not Not Wolfman Librarian I go I go I go to find a pile of healing snow to jump into but all I find is grass to sit on with trains rumbling beneath in the deep the unseen Hades eating his own pomegranate crown spanking Persephone across his lap She's crying she's me I'm crying I'm me NOT Persephone or Wolfman Librarian only me. It's sweet. But you can't forget or escape death by becoming somebody else. But I'm not myself either I'm time, not separate from anything else The circular fountain, the antique kerosene torches, The cellophane rectangle of a cigarette pack reflecting light from grey sky on grass. The sky's not grey. You look up: patches of blue. Get new shoes. You need better traction to walk
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