We is I, I is We

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Children play in the confessional:

We is I and I is We.  There are

problems with canes and crutches

always, as prostheses discarded

are reclaimed on Mondays.

Nous rendons grace a

But the chantier fund

needs chanting up.

No hymnal, but the choir

which had seemed recorded

was real.  Professional beggars

and a cold sun on Rue St. Jacques.

The suicide’s apartment

has been cleaned up.  The piles

of jouets d’infants  gone le matin

and winter on my tongue.

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