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January 9, 2023 |
in Poetry |
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My virginitywas hole my Catholic mother dugin our gardena paradise the always summerand my virginitywith crumbled dirt on its edgesmy mother with her iron shovelof Godand I grafting apple...
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September 23, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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BY THE FERRY LANDING Clouds gather, an angry mob,then silently scatter, no rain.Some days you’ve just got to believethere is no grand plan.We have found each other by chance,and by...
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August 1, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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THE ANNUAL SOLSTICE GATHERING We’re planning our first almost normalparty since Covid struck. It feelsrisky, perhaps dangerous. Who wantsto be creators of a super spreader?...
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July 29, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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Art: Sunrise by Friedrich Haag...
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July 28, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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I regret never saying weenough I’ll bury my needleas allegory or violent outburstwhichever comes first that hot rock feelingsmoldering in chest and arm the earth...
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March 27, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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In a tin canof breathingsardinesshe sat hunched in the wake of lightjust to slitherinto the airof rust eating awayevery moleculeof breath sheowned and body she wishedshe ownedto...
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February 24, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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As real as Santa or the Easter Bunnywhenever my mother muttered your name.Your father’s late for dinner again!Bet he’s with his girlfriend...Esmeralda. She tossed salad in her...
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February 16, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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In afternoon summerlight you undid my belt with your teeth and I aswoon thought me trothed Later that night you were one of scores lining...
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February 15, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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leaves light green sway wayward light...
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February 2, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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you can never not see a bird in your house. Every rustling paper, every curtain twisting in a breeze, every shadow on a ceiling is a frantic, fluttering bird. One winter we had...
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January 25, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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THE THIRD ROCK from somewhere up looks like an abstract work of art— splashes of blue pacific waters & blurred lands smeared by cirrus. when one stays there for a...
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January 25, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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You’ve been light-year fast-balling your fire my wayfor billions of years. And I’m out here in the mundane darkthrowing a hard chunk of Planet Earth right back at you.Not trying to...
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January 25, 2022 |
in Poetry |
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If not restoring the cat’s order, if not coffee for two, who am I, what do I desire? Walking alone on the beach, Claire wants to etymologize— but she’s got mere seconds to coin the...
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December 3, 2021 |
in Poetry |
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Never seen one out here before, so close to the road, flying off the mossy rocks– angles and intent. Morgan Bazilian is a poet and Professor of quantum mechanics...
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November 30, 2021 |
in Poetry |
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One evening I thought to save the azaleas along my back fence. Unraveled livid green vines from their choked branches. Next day I found a dime-wide blood-bloom on my left side,...