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Daphne
Apollo chased her and she lightly ran
nubilous and grinning like an oil
or silkscreen of an Andy Warhol can
of soup oh yes she made the godhead toil
and then some seconds later she grew green
and leafy praying for the destined end
of girlish fate or weatherward 'gan lean
to meet the sungod whither he would tend
the chariots of fire sunup bade
furrow misty earth to noon and go
downhill coasting to the ocean's sad
extinction and the fall of night but so
miserably loved Apollo she
that glory had he of her though a tree
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