If I am repaired, can we meet again for the first time, in all of the places I have feared to go, and then, again, in all of the places I will have forgotten, if I am repaired?




SC




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Here is the desk drawer in which all of my odds and ends are kept, tidbits that would otherwise never see the light of day.











Friday, October 12, 2012

Mag 138: 'From Mother's Clutch'





From mother’s old black clutch,
I draw out a Popsicle stick,
her wary eyes
forming a link between my brazen lips
and its discolored hilt,
while around my neck
the stethoscope she forgo
to have my careful hands
depress her tongue.

‘Say, Ah.’



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