Poetry
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collective ethical patience
there is a difference between collective patience and collective ethical patience, just as ethical patience will not do. But collective ethical patience is what transcribes and what translates between God...
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blood and ashtrays on Dilworth Farm
peace for consecrate pronunciation of guillotine gusts markings where guesses of patriot standings in strand, pro-government leftists are the doctored new centrists stealing hammers and nails across the sacred vowing...
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Fair dealing weatherable samizdat
horses in loving earth metals elements of practical conspiring characters of wafers and wine vanilla lemon tulip Cardinalidae peaking beneath the parched doe bouchon strings climbing where fallow of friends...
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low water empty bottles
child thieves wearing masks with baptized horns employed by what calls itself a remnant of a failing government executioners waving impunity, standing at attention with raging power, unstrung cowards, furnaces...
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Tabled Lotharingians and Belgian Salt Coroners
under the piles of a Petersen grab condemning the authority of saints here we will conjure the difference of an American mouth grating prayer birds that did not dismiss the...
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Marissa Nadler Mid-Sentence
the maltese doorsteps countering foot petals and tramping about the doorstop-broken kevel Marissa Nadler chalked upon the strumming downstroke midway contestant of parched blue parallel coffeeway feathers singing stolen hymns...
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wretched hillside resurrection in signature stent bar-lines
The wretched and the lonely among the giants of Stater Bros. in hillside falling and calling of San Bernardino and steak knife playwrights tossing the salsa like a dream-line across...
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Lapping corbel hearts in the milk and the ashes
I thought you and I could go somewhere, “oh, boy,” said God, truly beside Himself – acting like I was an inferno of blankspots, knowing I would not strum returned...
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grocery story bought spanish horses
sun breeds like republic degrowth politicians foaming orifice kisses awake at night like drums adoring the storm drains where the diamonds sign where mother raised me like casual haunting missing...
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hearts and tomatoes
fettered in altered clandestine towels of tomorrow’s dead praises we left behind finding gardening pretentious tomato collections on the back of giants now again where black olives and perfect organic...