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She sat there everyday
queenlike in her way
with
thrones for herself
and thrones for the patient
with castle-like object
in a castle-like room
rounded was the carpet
rounded was the chairs
rounded were the coffee cups
all rounded in her lair
sweet went her talk
like a stroll around the park
she was no magician
that snapped her fingers
and asked you to bark
pleasant went the hour
that even went to two
and for hours afterwards
the patient remembered you
and now all is forgotten
save a bitter taste
for all the hours
turned out to be
a goddamn waste.

Irwin R. Shaw - September 4th 1985