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The Picnic
On a picnic in Valhalla
I saw withered old men sitting on benches dreaming ancient dreams and weeping old tears
for young boys playing on the floor with green plastic soldiers
and painted toys of war.
I saw naked Valkyries pushing gray and white perambulators
Up and down empty city streets.
And as one stopped to light a cigarette
She did not seem to notice the moaning below.
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