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Click hereGod’s brooding eye
fire plummets
into the Ottawa, clouds burst like
summer plums, this
sea trident of flame
belly-sky
pregnant with fury
Fire, low light,
heavy hot breath and
sweep-sweet late plunge of it, a
membrane of dust-smoke pressing down
squeezing
gripping the land . . .
over cognac it’s
something to tell the girls about
-30-