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school of practical 1
kenny williams
in the hands of the priest
the heart has to break
like crockery, for a single man,
not the human race
which we love into oblivion
and despise in general.
in the hands of the anatomist
it leaps, the heart, like a 2 --
small, brown, and poached --
at the end of the line.
faster students than our teachers,
we feel like boys playing hooky,
just wetting our toes
in the landlord's river,
passing his 3 from
mouth to mouth.
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