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And Even in This Last Frontier

By Adrienne Johnson

Section: Arts

December 7, 2007

You throw me,

Shrieking,

Into the river

Off the bridge where,

you said,

Portland hung himself

Six or seven years

past

I splash and raise a little

ruckus,

Stay under

to scare you—

Hang with the fishes and

Wonder if there exists

a single inch

of bright, green earth

Where tragedy

Has yet to strike

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