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This poem is taken from PN Review 198, Volume 37 Number 4, February - March 2011.

Two San Francisco Poets David C. Ward
Weldon Kees' Car

was found by a cop on the beat
at 2am in a park near the Golden Gate,
the doors and windows open, fog tendrils
blowing - an easy metaphor picked up
by literary detectives trying to fathom
Kees' unexplained, shocking vanishing.
The law assumed suicide or 'death by misadventure',
empty car plus proximity to the suicide bridge
added up to a familiar story. Case closed. But no
body was ever found and years later a journalist
claimed to have seen Kees somewhere down
in Mexico - probably in the same town where JFK
hangs out with Marilyn and Elvis (slim again) plays
hillbilly guitar. The reporter said Kees ducked him
And disavowed all knowledge of the arts.
...


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