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Misplaced Karenina

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

The letters between us

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

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...

conversation

He tucks the $5 into his sockand looks up at my babysays When my son was a babyI used to sit up...

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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