Or A
Definition, Beyond Rescue
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Maurice Oliver
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Almost anything on the horizon.
Smells from a bakery shop. Leaves
that shade us. Wild deer bedding
down for the night. Dust on a
window sill. Vegetable stands on
the roadside. Sunday afternoons
in the garden. Rowing on a lake
in the woods. Grass growing to
the waters edge. A car speeding
by in the diamond lane. A Rococo
boulevard. Sewage plants. Green
stems. Slaughter houses. Boards
for roof or floor. Under an ad
on the subway. Iron locomotives.
Tin boxes. Scattering earth with
a plow. Idle cylinders. A plume
of steam. The red green blue of
lips laughing. Or perhaps several
harbors that pierce all that.
Patiently waiting in his raincoat.
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