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This poem is taken from PN Review 221, Volume 41 Number 3, January - February 2015.

Deletion Sampler Simon Jarvis
Society always pays itself in the counterfeit coin of its dream
                                                              – Marcel Mauss


I crawl through Mayfair where the lost souls enter
                    966
top coca blisses, & the diamonds flung
    out for last food scraps from the soft magenta
leather accessories, now cut the tongue
              which would caress them for a pinch of salt
           or taste vicuña from the warded vault
                    967
of deep investments : yet I may not not
    traverse these frozen wastes, because there is
              a final synod where the latest jot
of failure must be dotted. Housedrones fizz
           still decades since their sponsors’ first demise
                    968
           along the pavements where this little lot
              climax for sweet privations, then cam eyes
    up to the perils of the craft-filled skies.
...


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