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Jean D’Amérique, translated by Conor Bracken
transition to the final act
always
out of a fountain righted by available hearts
arrive portholes
the orphaned season trembling
and the morning
intact in its rages
encircled by birds
roosting in the sudden clearing
a seed sprung by the tree of love
slams into the interior
and a thought, dazzled, sloughs
freighted with blue a sound whirls off
fleeing towards the forest
where splendor feasts
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