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Shakespeare's Monkeys

Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.

More in Beside the Point

his song for a summer day

a purple martin wings along the summer day
until it believes it is almost autumn
enough. the lady pretends she is a martin too

the wind picks up and the memory of purple hangs
around an creaking birch on the edge of a glade
the bird is gone. the lady pretends she is gone too

while she sits under the tree 
waiting for a purple martin or that man
or maybe just herself.

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