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Summer. You.

What tells you ripeness, Love? What tells you wonder? To green a bud to bloom, to burst, to plunder Spring’s Dear light. Who is most wonderful?...

Tornado Back Home

It was the sound of stirring stone fruits In a stationary blender, and the screens Guarded discernment, and slats faced the wrong Way, smoke alarm pierced with...

Wasted

1. On the darkest days of pandemic I avoid the rooms with the tools I could easily use to kill myself. I’ve almost certainly witnessed a few animals die of their own volition. Squirrels, insects, a...

To Stand Down (And To Stand By)

A Pangyrus selection for Juneteenth. ancestry is all i have / the only artform that remains / how else to explain this oscillating darkness / my id...

Aubade

King of neither plant nor animal but of mornings after rain / / ghost sprung in the gloaming a memory of betweenness / / arisen in the dark and...