Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era

Marge, let’s send a sadness telegram.
I roamed under it as a tired, nude Maori.
No trace, not one carton.
 
Kay, a red nude, peeped under a yak.
Was it a car or a cat I saw?
Amen, icy cinema.
 
Nurse, I spy gypsies. Run.
No, I tan at a nation.
Flee to me, remote elf.
 
Eva, can I stab bats in a cave?
Oozy rat in a sanitary zoo
Loops at a spool.

from Between Two Windows (Carcanet, 2012), © Oli Hazzard 2012, used by permission of the author and the publisher

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1Moving In

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2The Inability to Recall the Precise Word for Something

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3True Romance

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4Rule of Thumb

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5Mid-Air

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6Home Poems

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7A Few Precepts

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8Some Shadows

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10Two Versions of Fabliau of Florida

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11Badlands

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12Four Landscapes

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13Glasnost

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14Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era

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15Outside

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16Prelude To Growth

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17Sonnet

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18As Necessity Requires

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19A Walking Bird

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20To Comprehend a Nectar

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21Carapace

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22Wyoming

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23In Absentia

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24With Hindsight

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25Three Summaries

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26Martedi Grasso

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27Manna

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29Kayak

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30from Within Habit 1

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31from Within Habit 2

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Books by Oli Hazzard