In the Cold Earth and Beneath the Bluish Sky

Poetry

In the Cold Earth and Beneath the Bluish Sky

Now six months after the problems on Church Street,
I’m still thinking about all the ways I might die:
All anxiety all the time
Every breath a traumatic stress

Power-Ties

Poetry

Remarkably, I write to you on a day
that would most like to remain a place,
which despite rain could be an active time,
when we could all be so productive
taking samples of hair, nails, and skin,
growing them inside our desk blenders.
You’d use a food processor yourself,

"it is similar to all others"

Poetry

the kind of disturbance that comes up when flying
over a kind of disturbance that startled: believe it
s called "turbulence" and occurs when flying over
turb and slowed down by excess that is the kind of
f over viewed out the tiny window shuttered in plastic
as though in a giant plastic wrap when believe it oh
y believe it like finding a bottle of bleach under yr seat

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Poetry

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OCT 2003

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