Poetry

Gift Rosary

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I bring you along the way heat lightning brings the thunder. The brunt & squander of it. Blank charity of a tree awning against the storm of midsummer. Mud the…

Three Minutes

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Surgeons for the Jacobite     s and English at Culloden, needed three minutes to h     ack through a trashed arm. Time enough to jam econ     o with the Minutemen, or for…

Drift and Current

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My father wakes at dawn to complain about the eggs. Every yolk is a microscope he can’t see through. Nothing any longer is urgent. Now new tangles and we adjust…