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over the thawed soil oom scatters
over the thawed soil oom scattersa new generation of barley seedlike ashes of cremation fallenout of the wind it sinksdown the stages of mudand in the damp loam he intersa new generation of corn seedoom’s a busy undertaker Continue reading
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ask grandmother
ask grandmotherif she remembers the fields that livedseasoned with stubble before they wereseasoned with the plowthen seasoned with seedthe fields that were still wet with mud out of the womb of winternewborn when the foal was in her kneesand the lamb was in her limbsthe fields that lived inside heras she seeded the commonand the Continue reading
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two days to the south
two days to the southamong the crops in the season of the sicklethere are children in the age of sproutingtheir parents mature into the flowering of their summerstheir grandmotherthe white threads of her hair drift backthe stitched hem of her coif wraps a pear frozen browned bruise splotchedwrinkled the linen frames her face Continue reading
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before it could be read
before it could be readfrom ambassadors’ letters to norway to poland to the emperor everywhere that his nearly old mother’s newly widowed orbefore there’s time for uncle claudius to walkmother gertrude on his arm in the garden to walk ‘til her smile suns through the rain of her tearsand she becomes again beautiful desireable‘til the Continue reading
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one o’clock the platform
one o’clock the platformone o’clock the plain the platform overlookedone o’clock the plain the stageone o’clock the platform the benchesfrom where the audience watchedone o’clock the audiencemarcellus bernardo i watchedwatched for fortinbraswatched for norwaywatched for the hour that containednorway to invadethe hour that held denmark watchedfor time to invade itselfit was a cold hour christmas Continue reading
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your birth began eight hundred years ago
your birth began eight hundred years agoyour life at the dawn of an age of summera rooster crowedand the sound of a church bell five times tolledhad the first light of an empire not crackeda black horizonand had the golden age not risenand become full like the sunyou’d have remained the eternal tribesman Continue reading
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i’d walk over the waves like galilee was a sodded plain
i’d walk over the waves like galilee was a sodded plainthe sun- risen morning of the last day i’d open like shutters and stride through the division in judgement robesafter the last day i’d raise my hand and blessthe wafer i’d raise my hand and bless the wineand by the holes rusted into the palms Continue reading
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before you fold
before you foldthat parchment into a padlockslit a keyhole into the end that’sunfolded with a pen knife or a scissor cutfrom the bottom of the letter a parchment keyshort in height and wide in width a triangle Continue reading
About Me
I have a day.
