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This poem is taken from PN Review 142, Volume 28 Number 2, November - December 2001.

Five Poems Matthew Mead

In Brief

Darkness deep upon the waters,
Nothing very much to do,
He imagined sons and daughters
Eerily like me and you.

Building paradise was easy,
Eden opened without fuss -
Somewhere for the bright and breezy;
Awfully, again, like us.

Fallcrashbang. The blissful banished.
Imagist and image gone.
Heaven knows what else has vanished.
We are standing here alone.

Who created the creator,
Called him god and let him die
Like his own impersonator?
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