This poem is taken from PN Review 70, Volume 16 Number 2, November - December 1989.
An Art that Nature Makes
The hard thing is embracing
death. Still thirty-five like you
I cherish youth in my close
companions, live for each hot
convulsion, and (liking girls)
sometimes think to get a sonne.
Even in verse we pose. Yet
the blue jay's hidden purpose
...
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