Jean Valentine

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THIS SIDE

The grave window-eyes across the street

look in, eyes open, half-open,

or gone asleep. Madonna

Lord. I wait,

antenna out at an angle,

wrapped with aluminum foil, the radio

turned this way or that— or the aerial

snaps right off & I carry it with me,

caduceus.

And left

a saucer of milk outside the door at night

for him, & in the morning licked

it where he licked. (Sweet spirit.)