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by Richard Ballon

Oedipus is the scrap
Mister Freud pulled from his private collection
of Greek myths.
Embroidered, dazzling
wet with fantasy, it is the centerpiece
for the quilt lovers would sleep beneath.
While above them, a mutilated cadaver
on a cross watches over them
and on the night stand
an empty juice bottle
whose label reads
After the Fall.


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