This poem is taken from PN Review 47, Volume 12 Number 3, January - February 1986.
'In the docks'In the docks a ship called Maya.
I used to pass there in the days
when I followed a false calling
after I died twice. Holding on
to luggage - by that case outlived
twice - anchored in stagnant moorings
such as these near the flour mill
where I saw the grain barges fill.
...
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