D. C. Berry Poems

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Laertes has groupies, proof he has taste,
has cool. Wears skate-board clothes: elephant pants,
the crotch snagging his knees, tent-size tee-shirt.
He wants the play staged at a roller rink:
him, Fortinbras, and me wearing in-lines,
the rest in quads. And instead of a duel,
we throw ourselves a roller-derby brawl.
Why not? Do something with a little class
to offset the end's cartoon slaughter house.

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