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A Polar Explorer

A Polar Explorer

All the huskies are eaten. There is no space
Left in the diary, And the beads of quick
Words scatter over his spouse’s sepia-shaded face
Adding the date in question like a mole to her lovely cheek.
Next, the snapshot of his sister. He doesn’t spare his kin:
What’s been reached is the highest possible latitude!
And, like the silk stocking of a burlesque half-nude
Queen, it climbs up his thigh: gangrene.



Poem A Polar Explorer - Joseph Brodsky
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