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Every time someone dies / it feels like / another victory for me.
The writer bought a literary magazine, leafed through it, and was gratified: he hadn’t submitted anything and none of his work had been published.
Burt’s riddles are a clever solution to the problem of how to communicate specific personal experience in a way that maintains a modicum of the universal, a problem she has explored in her criticism.
Somehow we knew your granddaughter / would need calm. We named her for what carries on.
I have contemplated my half-toothless grin in the mirror / and compared it, favorably, to a baboon’s butt