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Like Airplanes Up In The Sky
Come to me through the angles of lost
Science,
Of how the pleasant men used to have to
Look at the earth:
Now there are no unicorns,
And all of the counties are taking down the
Highest swings—it has something to do with
Human relations
And the ways toward which the children
Have disappeared—
But somewhere in my house right now
Lies an echo of your memory that looks
Very much like you—
I almost didn't have the time to
Graduate high school,
But the skulls are becoming further and
Further unburied—
And the angels are beginning to look again
Like airplanes up in the sky.
poem
by
Bret R. Crabrooke
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