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Cardinal Points



Anyone lost overboard must have seemed
careless to the boat predictably
sailing on. Whether it happened
during a gale, because of bad footing
or a rotten line, whoever fell
looked no more momentous than a bubble
sinking farther astern, until the froth
drank him whole. And it was not long before,



to those aboard,
thought of him grew
unwelcome: as the distance widened, he became
harder to bear, though what he recalled to them
was never at all clear--something to do with
mortality, maybe, or just the way clothes fit
at a ball, that bad translation
of the self to riches, how studiously bodies turn
to coral and pearl. But no one drowned



without drinking his fill, grown sick
of what supported him. There came a moment when,
dropped from his time, like keys
jingling off a table top, he passed
to a new plane. In the place that he went to



the avenues went everywhere; the trees
shook their wooly heads; the bark dried
into summer, then autumn. Slowly,
as if out of all patience with
the seasons' trance, the one wandering (how long
it did now seem) turned homeward, too tired to repeat
the news he had heard: that nothing
caused the change that came over him, no one
intended to refer to his name, and what the neglected
cry gets uttered always in a foreign tongue.


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