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Poems

Ignore Everything

All that time you knew a warm,

moving death

There were men who shook their brooms

to tight fantasies

“Hello, I’m going to hurt you so I can get off.”

The idea that everything pushed in and out

The condescending sliding was disgusting

The wrinkles, veins, ulcers, all twinkled with delight

while the soft pores cried

You killed your child

after it was too late

He was dancing on the altar

while we were weeping at the tabernacle

The sheep continued to stare