Bounty and Twenty Poems to Read on the Streetcar Senior Thesis ...

The Illness
What a boon we thought it,
when the wings first sprouted
from your shoulder blades,
before the bowing of your spine
<strong>and</strong> the shrunken limbs,
before your nostrils sealed
as nose <strong>and</strong> jaw sharpened
<strong>to</strong> rostrum <strong>and</strong> we realized
you were never intended
<strong>to</strong> become the angel among us.
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