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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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