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A
SPORADICALLY-PUBLISHED "MAGAZINE" OF POETRY AND POETICS Christopher W. Alexander and Linda Russo, eds. |
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ISSUE
7 your back
to me, inside the black suit
Your back to me inside the black suit, inside your back and shoulders fitted in sleeves marked with chalk at the insets. After this discovery, appearing to be exactly identical in intensity to every other part of the backdrop, a person leaning against it as if you
assigned one full day in which necessity plays its part. Necessary to have a private pink human in the cosmic field: brown window shades delivering glimpses, propelling through to you. (Delete the anxiety of someone's chewing on a word before opening its
pronoun.) What did you mean in the series of inked life stages littering the lower half of a uniformly lined page? Delivering her cool waters rowing through your own personal throat? No need to obscure when a cough can be heard in almost any room -
your precedent for going away. Away there is nothing ready for use that has not been preparing itself. |
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