i remember that arm

                     i could never learn to knit. moldy strawberries
                     in the fridge & another blood test. every morning
                     i poop whether i like it or not. the country is in
                     turmoil and i am hopeful. a man with an axe
                                 follows us home

this place lacks excessively large trucks

if an apple is alive where is its brain. there’s
a daisy in the midwest i really miss. at night
i wander a forest of neurons.
my lovebird rings a bell
that he loves

bony home

my hands warmed a bowl full
of blood    can i lick your fever

into alone with such momentum my tongue
   
   
    inside/this people

   
     unbearable

Elizabeth Dunham

~

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