Blackbirdan online journal of literature and the artsSpring 2012 v11n1
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[Some days one day every day I am over like the]

Some days one day every day I am over like the
                        plover or the roses but nothing seasonal
           the rose gets to hide in a bud stroke noses spike others
                                    some days I want to speak to

others confess how much I hate computers with their
                        gaudy square teeth that hurt people with their
            fangs their words but only thank you please sincerely come
                                   out of my mouth my lips with

its false color and old etchings how tiresome to spend
                        a lifetime buttoning things how I wish 
             to unbutton the moon from the tar sky and stick my
                                    tongue out at the neutral mute

I once had a book called Nobody’s Perfect but
                        some people are perfect so each night
             I sew my daughter’s bear over and over her
                                     lucky bear loved for its nubs and

flubs my blood has nowhere to go trapped in this
                       cavity circling and reassuring itself chasing
            itself until one day it will rush out and
                                   never look back    

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