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A Blind Music
Colin Dodds (bio)

Fish born caught by a kind of music

No less opaque than the luminous sprawl
that runs a billion years to the back

No less opaque than the crest
of an order of none-too-abstinent monks
on a liquor bottle

No less opaque than what your father
meant by being alive

No less opaque than whether
the day is given or taken

We pick up our voices and go at it

But the music plays us
and not always well

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