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Three Poems photo

SUSHI

umami fish in dead cold
sticky rice clings to
gum. take another slab– tell
yourself you are the
ocean, that you will
chew through sea-
weed.


I THINK OF GIRAFFES SOMETIMES. I HOPE THEY SOMETIMES THINK OF ME.

In Kathleen's apartment in Oregon,
I ask her where even is home?

Clevelanders-turned-transplants,
maybe never knowing.

I see my mom’s mown lawn
in the green fields our baseball

team travels through, my friends
in tweets spitting scores or stats.

These, I don’t care about,
but I join in discussion.

Blue hands to high-five,
then to put my phone down.


LOST ATTRACTION

the snare head's reverb post-strike

the cord plugged into the socket for days

bug stains on the window in sunlight

the black screen of television

two twin mattresses under one blanket

burnt bulbs beneath a motionless ceiling fan

condensation beside the coaster on the table
 

image: Aaron Burch


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