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They are gone now:
he stuffed in the hole
next to mother, she
disappeared into the erasure
of Alzheimer's, the same absence
into which (clever irony) my father un-
did himself from
memory. I am done with
fingering the bitterness. No is loss
a leaden burden I would bear. Rather
it is the dullness of
disregard, simply put
the place we find to place others
when they are no longer
of enough consequence to hate.
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