The Book of Merlin
Spicer on Merlin
Otherwise everything was brilliant
Flags loose in the wind. A tournament
For live people. Disengagement as from the throat to the
loin or the sand to the ocean.
Of another country.
Flags hover in the breeze
Mary Baker Eddy alone in her attempt
To slake Thursdays. Sereda,
Oh, how chill the hill
Is with the snow on it
What a semblance of
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