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THE MEN IN THE LABEL We bury our loved ones to forget. Then we launch their spirits into the sky. Or in the attic in any case bottles of Bermuda rum Ive stored with suitcases uniforms Uncle Cordiss Checkered pork pie hat finally this single wooden box that my wife has forgotten about only a third of the undrinkable Goslings rgTr stash because my sisters were given the rest Hathe crazy one onlyto pour it down the sink because she doesnt drink the other who drank it not knowing whose it was. On the labels Hppy Barbados men load crates of the rum onto a brown and yellow dock endless circle anEastern 7o7 flying my happy parents back to us in midwinter. I feel good that its up there in the original Box unused because Id be grown up if I used it the next to see the dark. Ive gone up there popped open the transom to the ceiling stood on chairs and swung clumsily up into The dark world friendly with 8th Air Force traveling luggage red-zippered hatboxes second-choice pictures and snakeskin electrical leads. I have gone up there to apologize to the black men 21