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i suppose i'm fortunate in that i often don't quite know if i'm dreaming or not. this morning there was a 12 tide in the saltmarsh behind my place. fog hung across the tops of the trees. the horizon was very close. stripes of yellow and red reflected everywhere. it was strangely quiet. i couldn't tell.
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a gramophone its corrugated trumpet silver handle
spinning dog. such faithfulness it hear
it make you sick.
-kamau brathwaite
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