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AFTER THE SERBIAN

You have gathered me up
In something close to my shape
And laid me in a form
Approximating how I was.

It is trying to rain,
And the four friends carrying me
Let me bump on their shoulders;
At least one side will stay dry.

I can hear you walking,
Crying, putting on nylon jackets,
And sniffling. You can't hear me
Because I'm keeping quiet,

But here inside
Where it counts,
I'm having a good laugh.
It'll pass.