Pilot Light
A Journal of 21st Century Poetics and Criticism
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Letter to Gabriel Written in the Margins of Murder Ballads
(Continued from Page 16)
The old theater on 25th street, 
sunk in ivy, the roof long gone 
or the roof is the sky…either way 
there’s nothing there, saplings crowd
the orchestra pit, mud-wasps 
in the projection booth, flicker of 
pornography and sun hollowing the years. 
(Continue to Page 18)