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that never makes its destination and allthe sort of dry rot thats eating up Wallace Stevenspoor moth-eaten tuxedo of a universe just now its just that virga is errata is forever falling for thousands of feet with its own unforecast aura unloved by poets evaporating in a few sparkles seen by a few Eastern Airlines pilots on their way to Tampa And brought back to the earths surface as bits of ethereally beautiful truth and empty bloody mary cans plastic forks and lemon slices truth is virga maybe because people who can describe it disappear along with it before they can tell us about it whole people with never never shoes falling thousands of feet ice crystals with briefcases and families t14 l