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A poem about Cold War anxieties. Homage to Allen Ginsberg's "Howl". Rated Mature for violent passages.
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A poem about remotely witnessing the horrors of the Gaza genocide through my screen, unable to affect the reality.
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---after Margaret Atwood’s “Habitation”
We lie on the soft couch, our legs twining like freckled eels,
enmeshing in pearly needl..
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When my father died at last, I did not attendthe funeral, having no broom to get there.In another state I ate my lunch and pretendedthe newborn white ..
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They say that flowers are also songs,and the sun, and the ocean-blue skyon clear bright days. The chipmunkis a song, and the squirrel, and so thehare...
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So what were you doing when the Twin Towers
collapsed? I was sitting outside the principal's
office, eight-and-a-half and waiting for a talking-
to..
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A dream sequence part autobiography, part fantasia.
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