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THE RED AND THE BLACK
Cogwheels
The brain:
a delicate machine.
Each whirring object
in it
spirals toward center
forever:
there is no
freshness.
But how
fast
some of them
go
emitting
such sparks.
Such
sparks.
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i--the red and the black
(6)
ii--casting
(3)
iii--persephone vs. eurydice
(4)
iv--metonymy
(1)
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Poem
untitled 1
Cogwheels
the tight places
untitled 2
vertigo
untitled 3
capricorn
my love it is an iris
winter
the object
eurydice
a song
untitled 4
About Me
sra
either these nuclear curtains go or i do.
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