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On the museum's half-lit hallway wall,
like an afterthought, a dim mosaic hangs,
unburied from an ancient palace
and labelled "The Peddler of Erotes."
Who knew that "Eros" had a plural?
But here they are: an assortment of cupids,
and a man trying to catch them.
He's got one by the ankle, beating
its wings, frantic to escape,and
here's another sitting in a cage,
slumped and looking miserable.
Aren't they supposed to be hunting us?
Yet there's one with rod and line





