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ISSUE:  Spring 1994

You thought you could put the attic up there with nothing
Underneath it. Now you’re having to learn by heart,
The hard way, floors and walls. From the cellar come sounds
You could only have made up, but their timing surprises you:
The silences. . . surprise you. Would you have wanted
Stairways that turned, stairways that turned around
And looked back at you over their shoulders, sinuous stairs
Going nowhere at all? Set the attic down for a moment
And come over here—there’s something I’d like you to see.
Someone has been digging, someone has been digging a hole here,
Do you see? That’s how it begins, with an absence:
A hole in the ground on the cleared land under the empty sky. . . .


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