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DEATH IS MERELY A PEACE As small as a seed, And thin like a tree. Maybe one day is the last day, Perhaps somedays I’ll vanish. Like a star full of hope, Like a river never empty. What the choice...
  • febrero 9, 2022
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    Almost It’s was almost like being there feeling the water waist high the cold white banks of snow the trees twisting in the wind crowds running children women and men   It was almost like being there eyes...
  • febrero 3, 2022
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Ο ΚΟΣΜΟΣ ΤΩΝ ΠΟΙΗΤΩΝ Οι μεγάλοι και τρανοί ποιητές άλλο ουρανό μας παρέδωσαν, τώρα με στείρους στίχους θα σκουπίζουμε τις εγκαταλειμμένες επάλξεις την εκούσια συνθηκολόγηση σε όσα επιτρέψαμε τον νου μας να μολύνουν Όμορφος ήταν των ποιητών ο κόσμος άνθιζαν...
  • enero 17, 2022
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PAVLOVA’S PHYSICS / LA FÍSICA DE PAVLOVA Everything in my body has been processed through at least one star (except for the hydrogen). I want to speak to you about it; I want you to know how much I understand...
  • enero 7, 2022
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NEITHER HERE NOR THERE Between nations, between desires, between the warm glow of memory and the colding embers of here and now, between crinkle-cut Kodak snapshots of rain-soaked outings to Tramore Strand, and knife-sharp, digital images of yet another place...
  • diciembre 22, 2021
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THE BUILDING OPPOSITE stands naked. steel needles of mesh, rusted and fixed in squares of caleb’s* concrete. i see it every day, it doesn’t grow but when it’s fully built i will look back at the time it was frozen...
  • diciembre 12, 2021
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WRITTEN ON SKIN In cursive and script your kiss is indelibly written on skin. Even now, the cut from your birth echoing the rain is written on skin. The numbers from a time of horror are held written on skin....
  • noviembre 28, 2021
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  BULL RIDER IN THE RODEO SKY Bull rider in the rodeo sky kicking up dust like breadloaf clouds sweating in the chute (is that the sun or is it the meanest line of spit ever to fall from a...
  • agosto 6, 2021
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  BELIEVE NOT IN THE INNOCENCE OF INK Poets have no respect for the private life of metaphor. You dress and undress us like little girls’ dolls. You make us come off crude. Me, I’d much rather have remained unsung...
  • agosto 5, 2021
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  THE HUMANIST When he rose before the jury of his peers he knew he had arrived at the endgame of his belief, mirror against mirror, and when they read to him his crimes— his betrayal of the time’s consensus—he...
  • julio 30, 2021
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