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  The Distilled Sun  
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by Carand Burnet
I lost all of my stock that day the subway tunnel cleared its throat
exposing the highway's squalling reverse
For the phoenix chimed heaven's vault and out came this call
refracting those many years after our death where we still unravel, and
_so smote
the city for today it shines like pools of scallops, mollusks
wedged among vacant dust, scrawls of time
men like raptors that knick up the night, all insect eyes,
perched in welkin briers and choked quarries
In blackouts the swifts wail to the pushed-in corners,
for wind currents are the transparent veins of the world
apostlebirds silked in air, marlins seared from the bedouin sun,
birds are the discarded angels torching in exhaust over the furled
_cities
And with one glaring flush they read me with the weight of braille-
Only to show that their cries refuse the world.
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