Gale Marie Thompson

    POEM AFTER H.D. AND EIDOLON   “did they re-touch her arms, her shoulders? did anyone touch her ever?”—...
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Joseph Mulholland

There were nights we awoke to bare skin on / plastic—the fan wheezing on hi. We lived / with strangers in a high-ceilinged apartment. / We ate what they cooked. We washed their dishes. / Each morning a new forest.

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