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Misplaced Karenina

I am perhaps in aweof your feathered-cap majesty,you hypocrite princess,our transplanted...

point nemo

I was told truth is the oakthat holds its leaves each winter. A promisedelayed. As it turns out, I...

I was told I was a natural pianist

Your words have faded, once perchedbetween the lines, now aloft in eddiesmore erstwhile than...

The letters between us

1.Did you hear the horse thunder and taste the dustin your cabin? The wild hooves kicked up a...

the cha cha slide

the DJ wants us to do the cha cha slide.the DJ wants our claps our stomps our“cha cha real...

Spidersong

August, and the days seep into dark sand.Hems of lace trail behind each wavethat retreats from the shore, identical,unnumbered.Bramble-month! My thoughts blackenfrom red to ripe to rot amidst your thorns.Dawn arrives wrapped in shawlsof spider-silk fog beaded with...

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Archeology of the year 4,000 A.D.

After the sculpture by Cleber “Lobo” Machado. Angels, all pistons and ironwork,descending a ladder in unison — it is 4,000 A.D.and distinctions between persons troubleand fade, as, on the way up, one learnedto make distinctions, what it meansto multiply.Once, we...

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the eagle has landed,

its contours at meetpointsin disarray. Carried off? Delicately,“transported.” The comte d’Angivillerdescribed a prison as a lemniscate,a guard calling out, “Houston, Damon Stanley lives in Columbus, Ohio and has a website at damonstanley.com.

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Harmonic Series

after Olivia Muenz Welcome in. Close the door behind you please. I’d like it if you took off your shoes. I just had this carpet cleaned. Last week. Welcome in. This is what will win me the Pulitzer. This is my brain. On calculus. Or on music. You can decide. Both...

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On Autumn

1.Along the fences the men wear camouflage like fashion. Old wagon wheels lean against the posts and fleck white paint. Buckets of carrots for the deer. I like the jerky that hangs in plastic bags from pegs across the front of each general store along M-61, the salt...

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Featherweight Champion of the Year

I bruise at loud noises. The skin around my nailsis an ugly, vicious purple. It takes the slightest breezeto send me stumbling. When I raise my wrist tomy lips, my pulse leaks out and settles stickybetween my front teeth. I’m less worried about decaythan I am about...

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