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Driving Through Downtown Sacramento At 3 A.m. Thinking About Our Poems

The city is shivering, empty,
and looks like a model
of another city far away;
somewhere we will never go.

Rainy streets slip by, lights
flash yellow; caution! The river
is black, dimpled, and we ask -
What is this Forever anyway?

But the river doesn't answer,
and the city doesn't answer -
all of this is in our head.
All of this is in our poem.

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