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This poem is taken from PN Review 91, Volume 19 Number 5, May - June 1993.

Three Poems Rachel Hadas


        I wore that fiction like a fine white shirt
        And asked no favor but to play the part.
                                       - James Merrill

Like a fine what shirt I put it on,
the house beside the sea,
enclosing like a tangy honeymoon
the fiction of a place for you and me?

                     A fine white shirt.

White? Without my eyes I couldn't see.
I merely felt the shining of the sea.
I have no eyes or teeth, but I can hear.
Are those gigantic scissors near my ear?

                     Snip. Snip. Snip. Lock hell.

Hell is locked out, I know it. Thank you, though.
No one is here in this salt bungalow
but me, I think. And you? Could you be there,

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