17 On some claustrophobic face Stuck like a blacked out elevator Between floors, thirteenth and fourteenth, Between numerals in the grid Of streets numbered to infinity, My left eye and your right eye Are two paired crows -- Thrashing about in panic, On the dead-end threshold of a blocked door, Pecking blindly till all is moist, Trashing us inside.







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IRENE CĂSAR
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Collected Poems

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