after Frank Bidart
imagine they picked themselves up
from the ground
from where they had fallen
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dipped their hands into their wounds
and pulled out the fire-wear
which had entered them by decree
imagine they un-strapped the other
from the chair he had rested in
righted him and put their shoulders
beneath his arms and carried him
imagine they walked through our city again
what a parade it would be
we might stand about in disbelief
take pictures or lower our eyes in shame –
poets come back to life
give us our daily bread
