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III. The Coming
They have found the way
They have cut through the countries, 
spanned the rivers, 
reached the milepost, 
and left the highway. 
They have moved past the stop sign 
without one glance 
at the deli neon. 
They are neither in graces 
nor in solitary 
nor in the far prisons 
to which they were transferred; 
but, knit together 
as in those five days, 
they come like a fist 
around the corner. 
What do they want? 
Alright, they can have it! 
My friend's round-rail fence? 
No, they have passed it 
without one glance 
at the hitchhiker rose-vines 
leaning against it. 
They cross to my mailbox. 
They crowd my window. 
Their mouths become craters. 
They want my eyes. 

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Transcription Notes:
---------- Reopened for Editing 2024-02-14 12:17:07