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  • Raspberries

    The diagnosis is raspberries or blueberries or mulberries berries of the brain harmless nothings sweet somethings berries bleeding dusk and then dirt in your eyes dirt in your lungs dirt from above homegrown berries reborn…

  • for the newly diagnosed

    “It’s not like I’m going to die,” said no hypochondriac ever in the history of the world. I am an expert hypochondriac, or so I say. I make a good game of diagnosing people…

  • scar tissue

    We welcome scar tissue into our arms like it’s a good thing As if it were a long-loved but long-forgotten lover we pretend never made us long-suffering Scar tissue whose flap signals hardening and…

  • adjectives rarely do justice

    Pretty ye gleam, hard diamond I smile at you Bitterly aware That my awareness is irrelevant And unnecessary Prettiness hardly matters when you shine.

  • Where to Submit?

    Can you, dear readers, give me some suggestions for sending my stuff for consideration in journals, ‘zines…wherever? I need to try to prove I’m good enough to be published somewheres.

  • Salt

    The sky is congested No remedy, no over-the-counter The salt of my tears will have to do Don’t look up, yonder sky Toward the horizon, aye, flegm of ice and rain do form The…

  • Abortion After 260 Weeks

    We’ve got babies dying Thwack Thwack thwack We’ve got babies dying Mamas too– Pancreas exploding Aortas imploding We’ve got a one-eyed Sally Baby Where’d her other eye go? What’s happened to you, Sally Baby?…

  • god(s) and fate

    I dated a guy who defined his religious beliefs as apathetic; he thought the search for God/gods and spirituality such a bore. I liked his stance because it gets too big and my answers…

  • Pink Death

    Just the other day I was telling someone about how assault rifles and Rambo-sized clips are bullshit for civilian use and how all those babies at Sandy Hook didn’t have to die in a…