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 short poetry  short fiction   short...uh..art
 

 

     
  Stella Brice
Full Bucket

o


I need to expectorate.

& There is no month good to do it.

I need my own month--

Shack Month.

In this bare frame,

In this month outside
of calling,

Every evening
while the sky
is opalescing
like black pearls

I empty slops.


 

 

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