Megan Paranich
He was born in the year of the monkey
although he doesn’t know this, and
his dating profile says that he’s a Sagittarius,
even though his birthday is in October.
It sounds sexier, I guess.
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He was born in the year of the monkey
although he doesn’t know this, and
his dating profile says that he’s a Sagittarius,
even though his birthday is in October.
It sounds sexier, I guess.
If something like that would shout, once and for
Out of estrangement, suddenly – like, click! cielo azul – like a tight
Tent abrazo, a pucker of bare-ness
Toe-tapping twisting ballerina dance,
Back snapping, shattered glass
Angry shards spinning, twirling through the air,
Points sharpened,
Aimed at a head, yours,
The weeds along the Little Cuyahoga
catch the falling sometimes,
women and men who leave
their Christmas trees up
till March so they can watch them die.
I scan, in a windowless room
walled with high def TVs,
the trucking and travel of this city’s
major arteries. It’s later than late night.
Father pioneered analytics in Netscape forums
and this was debate time.
Mother drank. I Nintendo’d intently
with a game full of little hopes.
New Year's Day and I burn my tongue
as I try with sweet and cream to dull
the morning ache of a train
searing through the countryside
Fully crush, pulled beneath, drag along to totally quenched and
all so quash
like a leaf on a lake.
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