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Notebook Poems

TALES OF THE AMERICAN NIGHT



Discovery

Angels & Sailors (rich girls)

Backyard fences, tents

dreams watching each other

narrowly

Soft luxuriant cars

Girls in garages

stripped, out to get

liquor & clothes

Half-gallons of wine

& six-packs of beer

Tender corral. Jumped.

Humped. Born to suffer.

Made to undress in

the wilderness



CAN WE RESOLVE THE PAST



- Hey man you want girls

Pills grass come-on

I show you good time

This place has everything

Come-on, I show you



Burlesque Beat







Can we resolve the past -- lurking jaws

joints of Time -- the base -- to come

of age in a dry place -- holes & caves



The music was new black polished

chrome & came over the summer

like liquid night -- the D.J.'s

Took pills to stay awake & play

for 7 days



The General's son had a sister.

They went down to see him.

They went to the studio & someone

knew him. Someone knew

the T.V. Showman.



He came to our home room party &

played records & when he left,

in the hot noon sun, & walked

to his car, we saw the Chooks

had written F-U-C-K on his

windshield. He wiped it off

w/ a white rag &, smiling cooly,

drove away.



"He's rich. Got a big car."



My friend drove an hour each day

from the Mts. The bus gives

you a hard-on w/books in your

lap. We shot the bird at the

black M.P.



My gang will get you. Scenes

of rape in the arroyo. Seductions

in cars, abandoned buildings.

Fights at the food stand.

The dust. The Shoes

Opened shirts & raised collars.

Bright sculptured hair.

Spades dance best, from the hip.



Someone shot the bird on the

afternoon dance show. They gave

out free records to the best

couple.







ALWAYS A PLAYGROUND INSTRUCTOR



Always a playground instructor,

never a killer. Always a bridesmaid

on the verge of fame, or over,

he maneuvered 2 girls into his

hotel room. One, a friend,

and a newer stranger, vaguely

Mexican or Puerto Rican.



Poor boy's thighs & buttocks, scarred

by a father's belt. She's trying

to rise. Story of her boyfriend

& teen-age stone death games.

Handsome cat, dead in a car.



Come here

I love you.

Peace on earth

Will you die for me

eat me

this way

the end



- I'm surprised you could get it up.

He whips her lightly, sardonically

w/ belt.

- Haven't I been thru enough? she asks.



The dark girl begins to bleed.

It's Catholic heaven. I have an

ancient Indian crucifix around

my neck. My chest is hard

& brown. Lying on stained &

wretched sheets w/ a bleeding Virgin.

We could plan a murder, or

Start a religion.







I WANT TO TELL YOU



I want to tell you

about

Texas Radio & the Big Beat



it comes out of the Virgin Swamps

cool & slow

w/ plenty of precision

& a back beat narrow

& hard to master

some call it heavenly

in its brilliance

other mean & rueful

of the Western dream



I love the friends I have

gathered together

On this thin raft

we have constructed pyramids

in honor of our escaping

This is the land where

The pharaoh died --

Children

The river contains specimens

The voices of singing women

call us on the far shore



& they are saying

"Forget the Night

live w/ us in Forests

of azure"

(meager food for souls forgot)



I tell you this;

no eternal reward will

forgive us now for

wasting the dawn



One morning you awoke

& the strange sun

& opening your door...







NOW LISTEN TO THIS



"Now listen to this:

I'll tell you about

Texas Radio & the Big Beat

Soft driven slow & mad

like some new language



Reaching your head

w/ the cold & sudden fury

of a divine messenger

Let me tell you about

heartache & the loss

of God

Wandering, wandering

in hopeless night



The negroes in the forest

brightly feathered

let me show you the maiden

w/ wrought-iron soul

Out here on the perimeter

there are no stars

Out here we is stoned

immaculate"







TIME WORKS LIKE ACID



Time works like acid

Stained eyes

You see time fly



The face changes as the heart beats

& breathes



We are not constant

We are an arrow in flight

The sum of the angles of change



Her face changed in the car

eyes & skin & hair remain

the same. But a hundred similar

girls succeed each other







THE SIDEWALKERS MOVED...



The sidewalkers moved faster

We joined the current. Suddenly

the cops, plastic shields & visors,

wielding long thin truncheons

like wands, in formation,

clearing the street the other way.

To get near or stay away.

Cafes were taking in tables

putting chairs on upside

down, pulling teh steel playpen

safety bars. Whistles as

the vans arrive. Moustached

soldiers. We leave the scene.

Eyes of youth, wary, gleaming.

The church. A pastoral scene

of guitars, drums, flutes,

harps, & lovers. Past

Shakespeare & Co., the restaurants

w/ elegant patrons, cross

street, the small Jazz

district (Story Ville) a

miniature New Orleans.

Negroes in African shirts.

A street brass band.

"Fare well to my web footed friends"

Crowd smiles, jogs, & sings.

Move past. San Michel Blvd.

The Statue. The Seine. Bonfires

of cardboard buzz evilly,

down the blvd. Fire-tenders.

Smell of smoke. Approach closer

nearer. Suddenly screams

long warhoops & the crowd runs

back. And as we flee,

they attack from behind,

Pressed against cafe tables.

Subway & news Kiosk -- A

girl beaten, her cries. Can't

hear blows. Rain. (Man w/ bottle)

Join me at the demonstration



We join groups under trees

& rain. Tall public buildings.



Join us at the demonstration







Dreams are at once fruit & outcry

against an atrophy of the senses.



Dreaming is no solution



WE AWOKE, TALKING...



We awoke, talking. Telling dreams.

an explosion during the night



A new siren. Not cop, Fire,

New York ambulance or european

movie riot news but the strange

siren predicting war. She ran

to the window. The yellow thing

had risen.







FEAR IS A PORCH...



Fear is a porch where winds

slide thru in the North

A face at the Window that

becomes a leaf

An eagle sensing its disaster

But soaring gracefully above

A rabbit shining in the night







STILL WET FROM...



Still wet from a strange dream

dawn burst

scarring the chamber's

roof where all things lie



I sat w/ her & sipped cold sherry



Airport.

(Caesura = ante-room to hell)







START AGAIN



Start again: Should the events of those

days... Dream of incest & expulsion

from the tribe. Big Sister. It's called

the clap. Get on over here, mother-of-pearl.

I was a virgin. It lasted 10 seconds.

Well don't then. "I can't relax." Roll the

leather pants up tightly for the morrow

hour.

They deserted me, deserted the cause, message

or word for another god. "We're kicking

you out of our universe!" He ask'd for you.

I'll bet he did.







MYSTERY OF THE DREAM



Mystery of the dream

a woman or girl is trying

to appear



The Killer -- Mexican, naked

except for shoes.



People, a family not connected

move at hypnotic cross lines

out of still frame



2 men, detectives, following

searching, sifting thru

back & side lit rooms, holding

muted counsel. Hats, suits.

Brothers.



People in a wood, a park.

The Killer lurks in his

own world.



dreams of children & families

return to the sub-world

to assimilate & guide events



New Orleans, sleep, (death's

friend, death's sister)

cattle, horses

faces get rubbery, clown-painted,

stupid sly & wise & knowing



The mystery of flight

To be inside the brain of a bird

goal -- the end of a goddess

to slide gracefully &

knowledgeably into graveland

The Big dream

vs

Violent assassination of

Spirit & neck & skull

wounded he arrived







THE DARK AMERICAN SUNSET



The dark American Sunset

The night like a vast

conspiracy to dream, hold

court in the swaying sand



Tijuana -- the anus of Night

a cartoon of civilization

Whores are bores in the

American Night



What will we see in the

bowels of the night, in

The frosted cave where dreams

are made, right before your

eyes. Prophecy w/out money.



This song must have the sad

common strangeness of currency

coin of the realm. Bitter

embers. Scent of pine smoke

Fire-Night, special breeding

exercises. An excuse for

crime. High School of the

Night. Silence of a school

at night.







L'AMERICA



Acid dreams & Spanish Queens

L'america (another?, lone?, voice)

Asthma child, the fumidor

Lamerica

Duchess, rabbit, the woods by the road

Lamerica

Pearl Harbor -- Shot off the road

Lamerica

Conceived in a beach Town

Lamerica

Relevance of beach or Lakes

Lamerica

Sinks, snakes, caves w/ water

Florida

Homo/-sex/-uality

Lamerica

Religion & the Family

Lamerica

Plane crash in the Eastern Woods

Virginia

Bailing-out over rice-fields

Lamerica

Guerrilla band inside the town

Lamerica

Bitter tree of consciousness

Lamerica

A fast car in the night -- the road

Lamerica

Progress of The Good Disease

Lamerica







AMERICA AS BULLRING ARENA



Those indians, dreams, &

the cosmic spinal bebop in blue.

The cosmic horrors. The cosmic

heebeejeebies. A combo of brain

tissue, blood, shit, sweat

sperm & steel, mixed w/ grease

& liquid fire, ovaric calendars

Magnified on inner

Television lust-face, mirrors

into Nothing, great silence

opens layers of prehistoric

chinese monsters. The mouths,

the mouths, the cellular MAW.

A young Witch from

N.Y. is laying novice hexes

on my brain-pan, projecting

images of embryo development

on my psychology.



Her terrified wildness

disturbs my generals.

Baby, now I dig your

nightmare visions, & your

sadness & your bitchery



But, yet, thank you for

These spells. It gets my

pen moving.



The screaming maggot

group-grope called life.



It's time for the desert wild.



Lust capital.



Time for an island, get

drunk, write & sail.



"I saw the Hell of women

back there."



Women are obsolete



"Little Wine -- dig that girl"



We placate women w/

food & song

w/ sex, marriage, babies



You dig kids, Jim



Yeah, some of them are nice



I like your wife



Democracy of souls







THE GUIDED TOUR



The guided tour

"I am a guide to the labyrinth"



city is inside of body made manifest

meat organs & electrical

power plants



The place where, walking down

death-row ("You look like you're"),

maps -- AMERICUS -- a river-vein

we ride along.



give form to the passing world



Freeways are a drama, a new

art form. Signs. Houses.

Faces. Loud gabble of Blacks

at a bus-stop.







CAR CEMETERY



car cemetery

The abandoned cars

The color of car paint, new at night

under neon

The dead reside in cars

-- the old man, filthy,

keeper of the graveyard

Children, curious, throw stones







PLEASE LIKE ME



please like me

says the shrew

what can I do?

I love her.







WOMAN'S VOICE



Woman's Voice:

The palace of sperm seems warm tonight



Man:

Umm. gloom gloom doom ruin.



Woman:

Marble porches. The grand ball room.

Silver smiles. Trumpets. Dancing



Man

I want only you



Woman

This time come in me like an astronaut

Send snakes in my orbit



Man

We can accomplish miracles

when we're together.



Woman

Alone



Man

w/ the night to guide us







DON'T START THAT...



Don't start that panic

Love Street parade



No one's afraid of the law



Someone escaped

To the shore



Your image of me / my image of you

in

one-night scenes

out on the coast



Won't work anymore



Soft parade

Love Street brigade







I BRING THESE...



I bring these few rags

back home this evening

& lay them at your feet

Miserable witness

to a day of tragic

sadness & disbelief

Hope you'll find me wanting

Take me to bed

Get me drunk (lay me out)







THE WEDDING-DRESS



The bride-to-be lies in her bed

listening to

Festivities below

He steals her -- in a dream







STAR FISH GLUTTONY



Star fish gluttony

What are the word-forms

for co(s)mic encounter

wedding flesh & mind

in one body







TENDER ISLAND NIGHT



Tender island Night

And a promise of fever

& scars that burst

at blossom depths

& more green silver



Us wrestling in the warm temple of summer

beside the temple

cool inside

-- He took my hand.

He spoke to me --



Black horse hooves galloping sun

mad chariot race burning

mad fiery chariot race

mad girl & mad boy

My feathered son flew

too near to the sun.







A MOVING



a moving

or movement

away from

a station



(weigh station)



Sound of lone car & low radio



A waving [good-bye to relations]

a way from |

a waving |

a motion



amazement

a moment

amazing

a waving



(call radio breaks in)



Uh, we have a message

brak brak







HE FOLLOWS A WOMAN...



He follows a woman into the firmament

The solids, sonnets

elaborate requisitions for the god-soul



ah my bright jewelled town

a Widow's band

roping sailors & hill-folk together

congeal on this flat spire

to partake of mineral jets

"he's sick" he should be sleeping

peaceful by air, a movie of dead nights

in a wound, suffer to give out

your red-blue lighter's flame

w/ calm precision

your certainty lives in a match

or a mind

The huts are free evening cliff-dwellers

The trees, losing their variance, die sadly

w/ grandeur

O soft redness & palest blue

like a babie's window

This is the hour you rule

& invite Ventures, quests,

trips to the electric valley down







PROMISES



"Mana Man"



He gets them into the dark hour

By playing singing stories hypnosis

wilderness the island

Led out of bondage(back there)

Viciously peeling fruit



Disguised as "Players"

command Performance



See-thru village

old hot forest of cars



cruel ambience

Leopard snake dance



swift lions of doubt

crouch in the window

& wait

for her to come







DO YOU HAVE



do you have

straight jackets

for the guests

yes we do







HORSE LATITUDES



When the still sea conspires an armor

And her sullen and aborted

Currents breed tiny monsters,

True sailing is dead.



Awkward instant

And the first animal is jettisoned,

Legs furiously pumping

Their stiff green gallop,

And heads bob up

Poise

Delicate

Pause

Consent

In mute nostril agony

Carefully refined

And sealed over







THE ORIGINAL TEMPTATION...



The original temptation was to destroy.

The Cliffs. The Road. The Walls.

Original heroism -- to bluff the elements

of fire. To call creatures into the storm.

The original heroism was to fall. To ball.

The All. Natural man.



To participate in the creation.

To screw things up. To bring Things

into being.



The Crossroads where the car hides.

Lies. Resides. A meeting-place

of Worlds. Where dreams are made.

Where anything is possible. Demons

lie.



The car is steel & chrome. The wood-pile.

Top of the pile. The heap. The graveyard.

Where metal is reduced to its common

mute element. To be reborn. A tale

of rebirth in the wilderness. To become

chaos & come back.



2 spade chicks, or a king & queen,

comment from the balcony.



The types of society pass on the boards.

Microcosm in a thimble







TIMES CHANGE, DAMAGED



times change, damaged

cat's blood rectify in haste

cactus furrows, wild

thrift catalog of grace



The chase bore inward

raise'd wet & westward shadows

To the strange trust

on the south bow



Augment pure shouter's drawl

& light the candle

Night is comin' on

& we're outnumbered



By the waves, each soldier

bristling w/ his trowel

To search & claim us

Teach our burial



The mind works wonders

for a spell, the lantern breathes

enlightens, then farewell



Each shipmate oars to under-

stand & eyes unoptic strains

to hear:



We came from over here,

to over there



Then old we wonder

mindless to degree

Most seldom furls

in slumber, burns

begins a century







PLANES ARE GROANING MOTHERS



Planes are groaning mothers

In our feeble insect wars.



Nylon condoms stream behind her Trojan

Warriors on their dreadful writhing flight.



Bailed out, sucked

from her metal belly,

one thin wire is left to prophecy return,

jump freely.



Swallowing air in the brief canal.

The ground leaps up like dogs

to snap, the field, & rolling pain.



Swamps, rice fields, danger.

Gunned down, over ten of them

struggling w/ the wet placenta



While some land back in oceans.

Skin-divers float, free-float,

in the uterus.



The sea is a Vagina which

may be penetrated at any point.







AH, THE RULE...



Ah, the rule was war, as friendship

faltered. Families quarrelled, as usual,

in their chambers. The race suffered.

We traveled. We left home & beauty.

Ah, into these ship, again, we hastened.

The creation of power is slow-wasted.

Borrowed fillings. Brace for the brine.

Heaven kept, hour dated. Winds fermented

madness & kept parlour rife & rancind.



Crews took leave of sour concubines

& habits. The sea is no place for a lady.

Lads larked & frolicked, pulvering waves

they would seek into the deep. Ark! Ark!

Cathay or Venice. Worlds beyond, &

Worlds after.



This story has no moral.

Trust not sleep or sorrow.

The fife-man croons the lull to wake

& Brings strong soldiers to a windy beach







ENSENADA



India ink, ink of India

There are no more rich colors

Black neon, blocks away,

Escapes back smooth

in the desert sea.



There's an appearance of sweat

on Italian silk skin.

Slap the rude face, & twist

into the doorway.



Then reappear, w/ drums & glass

in jewels of laughter as one

called "The Gladiator,"

Hair claimed by flame of fire



(Insulting to be back.

The dreaded, dismal day.)



Jail is a pussy coil,

dry as meat, dog-faced,

clever.



(Handsome dog & the shot gun eye.)



We leap the wall, dog & I,

To hang choking on fence collar chain.

Mate follows leap to suffer

String-throat, hollow, madness cry.



(In this "hollow" we were born.)



Mexican Khaki, the green womb.

Distrust all lovely words like green & womb.



(Obey the father.

Run.)



Escape back into the landscape,

dry as meat, dusty, narrow.



Dog licks shit

Mexican girl whore sucks my prick.



(Open windows on the town.

Open pores on foreign air.)



The car rasps quiet.

Motor destroys itself on rotten fuel.

The pump is ill.

The hose has a steel nozzle.







FLESH OF HER...



Flesh of her rolls flesh away

in waves, The waters part

dry scalps beneath the hair

nude-white & very rare



And when she exits bed, the barge

To bathe in ocean's tile & under

surgeon's glare, blinking

I bask on the red floor of a Red Sea



Crime begins in the bed, the home,

It's a low tide that talks

to rocks, & leaves

rust in its wake, & dry things crackling.







I FUCKED THE DREGS...



I fucked the dregs of the ruins

of an empire

I fucked the dust and the

horrible queen

I fucked the chick at the

gates of the Maya

I fucked all your women

& treated the same

w/ respect for your warriors

returned from the

Kingdom

fucked w/ the Negroes

in cabs of the drivers

Fucked little infants of North

Indo-China

Branded w/ Napalm & screaming

in pain







PENCILLED HEAVEN



pencilled heaven

my regards

no when to stop







THERE'S SOMEONE AT THE DOOR



There's someone at the door.

A rapist rushes in.

No pain. No death.



It's us, over & over again.



We're coming in.

All right, search the place.

You won't find anything.



Seeing all perspectives at once.





When everything freezes

& kind of turns back

in on itself.







FEAST GREEN BEAST...



feast green beast, spurred on by

sex, seasoned in silence, w/held

from slumber, silent in the deep pale

night beast languid a cool a cunt

a forest flower awoken now breathe

utter a word of reproach for fair

swifty flyers agon of night

The dream car the outlaw star

now he sits reclines in a terrible mansion

made more monstrous by the dark stroke

of slumber



The car is purple foil beast dead in the

night. Neon is its sign his rich home

soft luxuriant car death gave grace

shaken to the soil He stood in a strange

centre by the meeting pt. of worlds

This crossroads of desert flies the

corpse of sand batteries the ignition

What did happen! He screams at camera

Here she lie bleeding, blue wounds

just to tell us in our floppy hats

it's over. The cops are rubber animals

w/ surgeons cold pride, w/out their

glamour. The ambulance attendants

are sudden amateurs, good-natured in

this foreign chore. The cliffs no longer

contain faces. "I know what jail is

like" & "I know about time."



So we played the carnival. Car. Carne.

Feast of meat. Celebration of blood.



O lucky ones who enjoy the dumb show



The reptile farm. The snake farm.

Woman & Monkey. The sign. The sign.



Search for the Tree. The place. The sink

Big Dismal



Goes in 2 ways. Spirit & Meat. (sex)

You cannot join what can't be joined

You cannot travel 2 roads

(He road off in all directions)



Hand Grenade







VERY BRAVE



Very brave

all the rage

to tempt loneliness

upon Front page

gold head lines

w/ Ali Khan & all the rest

Onassis, Blues

BB Albert Collins

gin & tonic

give him a high martin i

get him down

the prancing clown

will bring the empire

swooping swirling

Tunneling Thundering Tumbling

hell, O, down



(That's as down as I can

get right now, on a

Mainstream, & I am pretty

high, far gone)



Thank god I have the

Sweet warm promise of

a woman there to keep

me warm



So this is where my fine warm

poetry (pottery) has got

me,

led me

back to Madness

& the men who made

me







YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW...



You think I don't know that!



your poetry is so obsessed

I like my madmen cold



The abandoned Hotel

flowers dirt on its walls

The labyrinth of bowels

Moves slowly in grim waste

Children play here, wait

& sway here, tiring to her

swoon arched summer

and languid by the bow

Sits Esther, made up

like a queen, port in

a storm, striking fire-bells

in her drawers, chalking

the black street w/ wild lies







THE BLUES



O how could this be done to me

great dancer's Witness

God, you are a satyr in disguise

Thus cruelly & uselessly to

Rend my life awry

I'll lie here stolen, in cold wind

in the road, until peace freezes

over,

& hallows me.

Rude ghost bastard.

Ah! Who comes now.







AN AFTERNOON OF SUMMER



an afternoon of summer

dread

I'm afraid to meet all

the rest of my brothers

in distress

Couldn't we get in one

big Movie

Blow it all on one

Grand Floozie

& end it all

YAH

YEAH

an autograph sends respects

to her Twin



everyone wants a Christ

& no one will give it to him

Mohammed, the enchanter

Keeper of Harems



Buddha, inkindergardened

under his tree, w/

not a moon-glow

mindless Thought for you

& me



(This does not mean I want

or wish to be prey to people

God forbid)



& look at the steeple

a mindless wit am I

dickless, looking at the sky







A HOLE IN THE CLOUDS



a hole in the clouds

where a mind hides

Pagodas -- temples



in child's raw hope



animal in a tunnel

defined by the light

around him



These evil subsidies

these shrouds

surround







IF IT'S NO PROBLEM



If it's no problem, why mention it.

Everything spoken means that,

it's opposite, & everything else.

I'm alive, I'm dying.







THE END OF THE RAINBOW



The end of the rainbow



put all my screaming phantasies

into one giant

Box-trap



image of self-image-propagation

image of elation



Ungulation

limit 1st tree



image of Utopia

a slaughter of phantoms



innocent -- guilty



The Human World

bounded by words

& dust



sweet soft & velvet

dust



medium trust







HEAVEN OR HELL...



Heaven or Hell the circus

of your actions



To Play

(chance is god here)

at Carnival



assuage the guilt

The deep fear



The separate loneliness



open Sinygog

open sesame



The Party of new connections

mind made free

Love cannot save you

from your own fate



Art cannot soothe

Words cannot tame

The Night







SCOUR THE MIND...



Scour the mind w/ diamond

brushes. Cleanse into Mandalas.

Memory keeps us wicked & warm.

The Time temple. Who'll go 1st?

Cloaked figures huddled by walls.

A head moves clocklike slowly.

I'm coming. Wait for me.







LESSONS ON BECOMING



Lessons on becoming

a revolutionary

an actor

(prophet!)

or a poet



There's still good friends

to assist & relieve you

Mercenary whim

for her or for him



First become a

Visionary-Scientist

radiocal biochemical

aviationary sky-diver

Then contact your local pub-

lic accountant (he'll tell you

how to spread the seeds of doubt)







MAIDS ARE BICKERING...



Maids are bickering in the hall

The day is warm

Last night's perfume

I lie alone in this

cool room



My mind is calm & swirling

like the marble pages of an

old book



I'm a cold clean skeleton

scarecrow on a hill

in April

Wind eases the arches

of my boney Kingdom

Wind whistles thru my mind

& soul

My life is an open book

or a T.V. confession







HURRICANE & ECLIPSE



I wish a storm would

come & blow this shit

away. Or a bomb to

burn the Town & scour

the sea. I wish clean

death would come to me.







IF ONLY I



If only I

could feel

The sound

of the sparrows

& feel child hood

pulling me

back again



If only I could feel

me pulling back

again

& feel embraced

by reality

again

I would die

Gladly die







IT HAS BEEN SAID...



It has been said that

on birth we are trying

to find a proper womb

for the growth of our

Buddha nature, & that

on dying we find a

womb in the tomb of the

earth. This is my

father's greatest

fear. It shouldn't be.

Instead, he should

be trying to find me

a better tomb.







THE END OF THE DREAM



The end of the dream

will be when it

matters



all things lie

Buddha will forgive me

Buddha will







AUGMENT OF RE-BIRTH

-- The cycle begins anew a luring lulling sick-sad maddening haunting

ego-familiar strain calls the wayward wanderer home again a music mosaic

made of all image tune preceding the whistle or warm woman's cry

that calls the child home from play







THANK YOU, O LORD

Thank you, O Lord For the white blind light

A city rises from the sea

I had a splitting headache from which the future's made

Doors

Notebook Poems / Doors

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