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Dustin Hellberg |
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Morality Self Portrait with Gravity
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Morality Why salt, natron, juniper oil, why all these lists sewn up to sky, the the, slurry of a day’s dehisce beaten back to innocence. Let gravity do its work on your name and watch the wick go saint, go out, and blame the person you’re not for where you’ve been, what all your crosseyed family did and were. No one comes and says, Hey, it’s not your fault nor will they. Life’s a fizzled knot and stitch. When I had surgery they stopped my heart with rain forest frog venom, slough of green and orange synthesized epidermal neurotoxin, and imagine being so beautiful the world had to give you a bright and poisonous skin. |
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Self Portrait with Gravity Remember that day we squared the circle, marched the horizon down to math? That day we watched the bee drown, you placed a veil over the bread, called your hands veils, and touched everything. What I want to tell you now: I vouch that all the feet will turn your way. Back, it’s a long walk to the house you’ve borrowed. Combined, they were a grass rope we followed when our arms were tanned, fields full of myrtle and stammer. The bee is dead, veils fall slouch where there’s never enough time for music flown of its landscape like a paper gown, when the flowers bloomed to earth like slow fuses and the air followed you all the way down. |
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