i ask her,
as we sip
harvey wallbangers on the back
porch, overlooking
the city on fire.
what's worse, i ask her.
Listening to the song,
The Wreck of the Edmund
Fitzgerald,
that endless dirge by
Gordon Lightfoot,
or actually being on the ship
when it went down?
she looks at me and says.
what's wrong with you?
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