it doesn't action

see here, I don’t even recall
the war
though it goes on every day, probably
the way
arthritis does for worn  out ladies.
The war    it    doesn’t action, you see.

more like it sits, maybe, I don’t know,
like a spikey nail at
                              our dinner table
                            and orange
juice spills from some fractured
decanter into our plates, our spread

- who in your family sits the seat
at the end of the table -

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