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Three Poems photo

Quarantine (March 17, 2020)

Through the west wall
our neighbors still
decide to get drunk.

You go into the basement,
pull out a red bag–
hammer and nails.

Framed photo of your great-
grandfather, we
slam it on the wall.

We’re stuffed
with a dry night
cough. We’re stuck

inside. Finally.
A good reason
for the rain.

Beer Pong

beer pong is concentric
angles & behind-the-back
a miracle of physics

not that I understand
the finer maths of sport
I held an endless reservoir

of alcohol schoolnights turned
blue-lipped and blurred
pages flipped to

one time

awakening on a bed of roses
at the belly of Constitution Hall
staring to the vacant moon

soaked in sticky juice a book
with its pages torn out

Frailty and Fervor

     the religiosity of longing

               potatoes are my new church
long-lasting water-scrubbed love

               in the oven eleven of them
     I want you to count

     our time remaining
                   provided what we want
                         we really want

is growing underground in vast distant fields
     if we could see well enough to count

image: Aleyna Rentz