Not A Precise Report Poem by Charles Chaim Wax

Not A Precise Report



my sister said
Minnie said
her friend's son
fell off a moped
near Rochester
on a country road
then a car
killed him.
'how old was he, ' I asked.
'twenty-one or twenty-two, ' my sister said.
'I can't remember.
anyway
what's a year?
after you're dead.'

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