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title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Richard Widerkehr


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How To Spell Hamtramck

Sometimes, late that summer when I cheated
at solitaire, walked out under arched elm trees—
no cool wind to make me think of you shopping
at Northland. You knew I hated mall parking lots.
Last night I dreamed of a kitchen midden built
into the side of a cliff. You showed me how to roll
up an ice cream cake, put it in our freezer with small
doors and cubby holes. Nothing about the Mr. Frosty
truck, the sweat on plastic seat covers in August.
Our bare knees. Had I learned nothing from
the absence of wind in branches except how
to elope under streetlights in the rain? I never
shopped with you for Xmas ornaments at Macy's.
In the fall I went to the university to study
diversity. Sorrow, too. No sweat, we used to say.