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Cosmonaut, turn your antiquated gaze to heaven, know no greater love when the heart's awake the gods originate in original sin 1 of a kind objects and novelty items made to order shirts with centipedes stitched on the collars, hats with brims to hide the eyes like visors. Whenever I see her I look the other way, she crosses the street when she sees me coming. Once we were people who knew the special way people feel when they meet under complicated circumstances. You might interpret the same event differently. Water condenses under room temperature, like poetry. The caress of a hand still animated by the thrill of discovery without yet being blunted by desire is only a memory. Were we fixated forever at that stage or did we change? The highpoint of the visit was steak in an all-night diner, a midwestern variety, she was leaving the next day. Bite the delicate fingers that feed you, and portray it all in bas relief on the side of a cup, alongside the astronomical observations so far ahead of their time blueprints of buildings with fake facades and corbeled arches.

Lewis Warsh is the author of several books of poems, including Dreaming as One, Blue Heaven, and Information from the Surface of Venus, as well as two novels, Agnes and Sally and A Free Man. He is the publisher of United Artists Books and editor of The World (the literary magazine of The Poetry Project).
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Author:Warsh, Lewis
Publication:The American Poetry Review
Date:Sep 1, 1993
Words:244
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