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This poem is taken from PN Review 259, Volume 47 Number 5, May - June 2021.

Canine In The Windsor Peter Manson
Goodbye enmity’s Rosicrucian;
May you ever grow in our heaves.
You were the Gradgrind that placed itself
Where ligaments were torn apart.
You called out to our couplet
And you whispered to those in Pakistan
Now you belong to hebetude
And the starters spell out your napalm.
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