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Museum of Russian Art, Minneapolis
Incredible the Bolsheviks didn't smash it,
token of the Tsarina and the wild-eyed
Rasputin, who accidentally on purpose could
have ground a porcelain cup in his teeth
and not bled, proving to her his powers,
grinning and chomping down the delicate
painted birds on the cup, its background
a robin's egg blue or the tint in a woman's
bedroom wallpaper. —Swallow-like birds
I can't name, their own invincible magic
flown from a brush's dash-dash, o,
trickle-down, tangible happiness, the royal
that escaped assassination. O happy little
birds, happy blue teapot boxed in a museum's
vitrine. You'll be the family that lasts forever.