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Poems Of Anthony Weir (161)
The Beauty Of Perfection Is Impossible - But Anything Is Possible To The Imagination
The Car Of Jagernathi
The Diogenes Museum
The Earth-Mother's Lamentation (Newly Translated From The Old Irish)
The Empty House
The Futility Of Trying To Communicate The Futility Of Communication
The Graceful Dead
The Great Attractor
The Happy Pessimist
The Inventor Of Slavery
The Misery Of Milk And Hitler In The Heart
The Motto Of Capitalism: Enough Is Not Enough
The Nearest To Joy
'The Scent Of These Armpits Is An Aroma Finer Than Prayer' (Walt Whitman)
The Secret Society Of Suicides
The Shadow Of A Shadow Of A Wound
The Welsh Word For 'England' Is 'Land That We Lost'
These Also
Thinking Without Language
Time And Dog
To America
To Amnesty International
To The Ghost Of Willie Yeats
Tombs For The Living Are Erected By The Dead
Touching Bottom
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