Charles Wax

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A Discourse On Heartache

Joe Rosenfeld trudged into the Teacher’s Center
plopped on the couch, then whispered, “Terrible nightmare.”
Silence. Staring. Then:
“My dear Uncle Irving wailing as his wife
stuffed into the grave. Never recovered.”
“This the guy with the funny eye, ” I said.
“The left one, stood to the side, like a soldier,
never moving
and from this slight imperfection

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