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John Vanderslice
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Radiant With Terror
Back and forth
And back and forth goes the tock
Of the orange, bland, ambassadorial face
Of the moon on the grandfather clock
All autumn long
The chafe and jar of dirty bomb
We have talked ourselves to death
I swim like a minnow
Behind my studio window
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Our end drifts nearer the moon
Lifts radiant with terror
The state is a diver under a glass bell
A father's no shield for his child
We are like a lot of wild
Spiders crying together
But without tears
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