The Opening of the Field, Robert Duncan
 Dear Opening of the Feild, you are a prayerful and extensive book. You are a fucking book. You get the book the opening the measure. You hammer it to the wall end rhymed alluded to pick axe stanza. You fly out. Big city of time on the grass, tangled in the feet of the grass. How inspiring to get the drift, reading on Saturday, these ships of July, the scissors of the water and the pouring out of time. Into this book, R. Duncan, yours dawn.
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