David O'MearaDAYSWe keep forgetting something back there, don't we?We pop out the door, turn corners, the shops unchanged,but data nags like a black box has signalledfrom the wreckage, or a high voice is calling downa long street across medians of statued piazzas,river bends, concert halls (vertigo in the nosebleeds), baristabeards at homogeneous counters, X-rayed luggage,passport please,
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