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Strewn across the floors their toys and things, a video cassette the dad
had written “We used to have more of these” on,
the kitchen in a state of high party, boxed cakes half eaten, cannoli
and rows and rows of drinks were pastries brimming with cream
along the broken ramparts of the countertops, we noticed blue carpet
but hardwood elsewhere, no choice had been right
the house abandoned in haste if in triumph or terror, just
abandoned, a family photo on the wall when the twins were babies
dad diminutive and round, pale as batter, mom had great bones and a vanity
he subsidized while the babies grew through that disorder into us
and as we toured the house accepting slowly even this we can’t afford
I’d love to steal the plants but how to get them home
the towering ficus and an actual tree I can’t name and others
they lived at least on a larger scale, they reached for things, these half-wits

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