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Joyelle McSweeney
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A Caper
 
This light is conceptual.
It comes from all directions
and neither strikes nor touches.

On the tombwalls, groves
and orderly gardens. The happy homes
are scheduled for demolition
-by-flood, again. Then the happy silt
shall nourish all in its wake. So the basket

shuts like a seed around the body. The brother
is zipped into his figurative coat and buried
in time and the planet. [These images

stand for the code.] The hero
takes many paths across the ocean.
She ‘lands’ as a fly on the window;

the window exists. Then the ledge,
then the wall as she drops to the ground
and rolls on her back to her feet. Faces the ladder.






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