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72
LISBON’S LOST ANGELS
Michael S. Morris
... it was a decaying place
ruled by a king who sired
bastard sons
by comely nuns
until he lost his mind
Lisbon was dying...
It was
the Los Angeles of the past
and all at once at bay
it was two hundred thirty nine years ago
nine-thirty
All Saint’s Day...
when the morning streets began to heave
and toss
darkening the city under a Raven cloud
of burling dust
Church bells