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Elsewhere, We Became #2

Lena, You asked me how I became strong. How did we, of the same origins - of the same cloth -become so different? I recall shrugging and refusing to look at you when I said, "Some people are just born like that." Isn't that what I said? I might have mentioned that sometimes people are… Continue reading Elsewhere, We Became #2

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Elsewhere, We Became #0

Untitled was the first poem I'd written. Its lines were crooked and without symmetry, words pressed tight against the page, unable to breathe. You could follow the dark shadows of the graphite and lead, trace the awkward, childish pause where I left a comma instead of a period. Where I abandoned the line, everything open,… Continue reading Elsewhere, We Became #0

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Gasoline

I don't know why I remember the smell of gasoline. Sitting on the garage floor in nothing but my short corduroys, grease smeared on my knees, I watch Papa curse over the truck engine. Gasoline, sawdust, and grease was all over the garage, painting it with the leftovers of hard work and, often, failed attempts.… Continue reading Gasoline