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Ernest Hemingway,1961

Rating: 4.8

When the sun comes early
through eastern windows
and a single horsefly buzzsaws the air
it is then I rise from bed
my dreams of amputation, of teeth lost,
cloaked in the amnesia of another day
overwhelmed with trivia.

We make our own rules and lose by them.
This morning after a breakfast of coffee

and ice water I walk to the corner
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