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Charity Has No Vacancy
by
Brent Fuller
Up above the white froth of a curling swell
Love for me was manifest in diving seabirds trill.
Sweetly they compose
No need of
Programs from the riddle
To heights they mount on will
Aspiring lung
The morning’s
praise earn
With a willy-nilly picnic of fun
A serpentine, sedentary swing for one
Tantalizing fragrant charity reach
Lifts the feet of many tired dancers
Crying "Peace!"
While whirling in our mores and confident dye-
Can even a marksman accurately try
To remake wholesome festivals of lore
Stringing popcorn lamplight
Down streets
Store to store
As for living in the heights
We have to turn the question
Was everything of barons of luxury
Sanctioned
Motors of the world are humming
And the purr makes me lazy
I hope I can invoke a treaty
With the practical side
Of Winter
Let go of fancy
Never budge
And let cold gales appease me
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