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Pyragami Yesterday, I mistook the phoenix For a paper crane, a parody Which I burned, in effigy of itself But only after I clipped its wings, Rolled it into a cigarette, Lit it on fire, And chased the dragon, Tapping cinders into the tray. Of course my phoenix never rose from the ashtray. But then again I never waited a millennium To see if it would. John Ejaife II This poem is appearing in the Book Spinning About Three Axes |
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