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Poetry

PETER PATAPIS

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       Peter Patapis lives and writes in New York

IF ANYTHING

00:00 / 01:07
Journal

The deer are touching silence this evening

Their resplendent attention cannot possibly attempt to comprehend fate

They wade to our car doors weightlessly

Hugging their apprehensions

Through the rearview mirror we watch

The horizon as though it were an open casket

A crisp interlude of association

Will get you through this lane

They’re whispering into our eyes

Haven’t you ever studied an apple or an orange

Long enough to be like totally enraptured?

Only an occurrence as innocuous as this

Or an acorn falling from its canopy for instance

Transports them to Elysium

I know this

Much is audacious to claim

But we were told to

Repurpose the miracles within our temples

Into practicality, to which I maintain

I haven’t the slightest clue how

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