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- 1970-1-1
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英文小诗赏析:Cement Guitar
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* S( C* A8 U& L, T. k* @ All morning I've remembered St. Ignacio's bruise,jaundiced seagulls over Quonset, November and the gross white sky. Days so long you walk home fifteen miles from the restaurant.
; H m& P* R6 J Same waitress every day of your life and she never remembers your allergies.
7 [4 d6 K! w3 R ~2 [$ {) s Nothing on the map but scone crumbs and a drop of tea. Just manifold food and a dead request to bury the last of your seven receipts., x: X: M7 {% A
Mother of foster-wit,father of straw,I can see how silence takes the place of those who cut their thoughts in stone before they need them." [8 ~/ {' X8 m/ A
Stone is the past,and the past is a form of flattery.
+ l4 p+ ~8 z( T) ]9 V Last winter,groups of children sent letters in sadness for the late Christmas suicide.
6 H/ Z& N& @; R Addressed to those who managed the fishery,who named the docks and decided the colors of unfinished boats,the only way to read them was alive.( ]: t1 j }6 z, N: o' R! b
To think out loud about those children's names was to forget what you meant by dying.
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