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The Feeding

The pleasure merchants,

dealing in the lure of the instant,

call to forgetfulness primeval needings

that would break the shallow peace

of Bacchus' feedings

with unwelcome spectral echoes

that haunt the pagan revelry

with not quite spoken questions

from the edge of memory.

A menu of painful light

that will fill cups and plates and tables

with pyrexic morning that is also night.

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