quarantine
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bottoms up
we might’s well drink the brew.
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Jagged Bones
I need you to see some flesh on the jagged bones of the life themes I’ve expressed in my poetry.
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Quarantine – Week 9
in the scheme of things, I see these as small vices.
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nightmare
Frogs, fingers, “we only want you” this poem becomes a witch’s brew
defying atrophy 