INSIDE THIS ISSUE:
Laszlo Slomovits
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DRIVING HOME IN NOVEMBER I saw in the rear window ahead--a "V" formation of a flock of geese: an autumn passage usually heard and then observed. Staring at the sky revealed no passage of wings--just lingering wonder if the reflection was real. WE READ THE ODYSSEY as ancient myth no remembering the Mediterranean that has dried up over and over, was once roamed by elephants. WHEN SLEEP DOESN'T COME it's worse when the fault's yours--eating too late, too much, too little, leaving a warm cocoon to pace between hall walls. Up and down, up and down, turning smartly like a soldier under a 60 watt light globe held by screws. Up and down, up and down. There are no clocks on the hall walls; turn smartly--whistle. There are no windows to hint the coming of the dawn.
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