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new poem: an outsider’s account of the great sofa war.

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I. there’s harried excitement like wobbling guitar strings
as he claws apart their couch. huge chunks of cheap
foam, digging digging, and as they come off, out the
window they go.

&n…

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blast from the past: andres talks to the city (II)

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behind his eyes, he hears color. he told her, every pitch has its own shade and hue.
an air raid siren, for instance, has colors i do not like: a light yellow, and after,
a deeper green. he says that the image associa…

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