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   e (r o t i c )-m a i l

--- P A T R I C K   L A W L E R

an astronomer
puts his eye
to the universe
for the first time

words if you let them sit outside the mouth long enough

eventually harden into things

look past the lid of the exquisite eye

constantly delivered

I wish I were made of tongues .

© crossconnect 1995-1999 |
published in association with the |
university of pennsylvania kelly writers house |