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Ghosts by Anne Sexton Some ghosts are women,
neither abstract nor pale,
their breasts as limp as killed fish.
Not witches, but ghosts
who come, moving their useless arms
like forsaken servants.

Not all ghosts are women,
I have seen others;
fat, white-bellied men,
wearing their genitals like old rags.
Not devils, but ghosts.
This one thumps barefoot, lurching
above my bed.

But that isn’t all.
Some…

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Pending Vegan by Jonathan Lethem

(4/7/14 issue of the New Yorker)

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“At the end of May 2006 – my last Commencement – my students marched across the stage at Galesburg High School.” ~ The Confessions of Frances Godwin by Robert Hellenga

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RAIN BEFORE DAWN by F. Scott Fitzgerald

The dull, faint patter in the drooping hours
Drifts in upon my sleep and fills my hair
With damp; the burden of the heavy air
Is strewn upon me where my tired soul cowers,
Shrinking like some lone queen in empty towers
Dying. Blind with unrest I grow aware:
The pounding of broad wings drifts down the stair
And sates me like the heavy scent of flowers.

I lie…

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Nothing Gold Can Stay by Robert Frost Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

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A classic author:

The Man in the Woods by Shirley Jackson

(4/28/14 issue the New Yorker)

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“When we say that Henry Hudson explored New York, what we really mean is that he explored lost New York.” ~ Gotham Unbound: the Ecological History of Greater New York by Ted Steinberg

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Remember by Christina Rosetti
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann’d:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember,…

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Lovely One by Pablo Neruda Lovely one,
Just as on the cool stone
Of the spring, the water
Opens a wide flash of foam,
So is the smile of your face,
Lovely one.

Lovely one,
With delicate hands and slender feet
Like a silver pony,
Walking, flower of the world,
Thus I see you,
Lovely one.

Lovely one,
With a nest of copper entangled
On your head, a nest
The coloUr of dark honey
Where my heart burns…

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The Waitress by Robert Coover

(5/19/14 issue of the New Yorker)

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