Current Issue About Editorial Note Archives Submitting Links		Duane Locke We Never Grasp the World As It Is The motels in our brains never Have vacancies, although on On red streets here are pink neon Advertising “Vacancy.” Each room Is filled with a business man Who did not register. He sneaked in By breaking open a window. He Orders room service to send up A pair of hands without a body, When the hands are attached again A finger wears a wedding ring. Next Poem
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