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December 2, 2016 § Leave a comment

 

amygdala the nervous little shit

 

the dead animals all around me

 

a symphony of recorded hang-ups

 

the frog is a leak in the kitchen

 

nothing blooms precisely

 

it’s almost a French word

 

glimpse of a tuft of hair

 

the refrigerator turns off we hear traffic

 

 

 

 

 

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November 23, 2016 § Leave a comment

even the flies are here for something more

 

 

 

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November 22, 2016 § Leave a comment

 

my incense tells

me no babies

no rabbits

 

 

 

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November 6, 2016 § Leave a comment

 

Slender November

Moon not Zombies

We’re Frankensteins

 

 

 

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October 23, 2016 § Leave a comment

 

at the dry edge

of the hurricane

the old crow

 

the old crow

his friend

the old crow

 

sadness just

makes him horny

the old crow

 

the old crow

his feathers never

age

 

lost

his children

the old crow

 

the old crow

at the four

way stop

 

 

 

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October 13, 2016 § Leave a comment

 

furtively

I peel

the egg

 

 

 

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October 11, 2016 § Leave a comment

 

is it

a crow

the old crow

 

 

 

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