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Liza Flum




To align or undermine was,

for me, a great good.


To touch, a big loss. Maybe for you

too. To bond


despite breaking meant

I felt our teams separate.


And I am still.

Some time to neutralize—some new


jerseys, new plays, whatever.

Very, very grateful.  I will always


love wonder. This referendum

has taught me something:


humility—like, to try to feel,

and hope for physics,


for a law. A process is, at least for me,

control. I speak for me.


Post-friendship, a case

of having-and-eating a person.


A very clear example.







I’m on my back

looking up: woodpecker


on a railing. Windows.

Just started teaching


stories about successful and

unsuccessful attempts.


Possibly getting a weekend.

Just wanted to check.


I’ve been it, and no matter

how long I’m tough, it


will be me. I would like

seeing you. I’d be down


to plan to feel.

That said, I’d feel up for


whatever now.

Terms with one


queer smile. The rest:

“She has short hair.” 







My whole family is flying

across the country. So lovely, so


logistically able.

I feel a little like I’m giving


birth. Our title is

going to be— 


Basically I kind of

polished time. 


To be clear,

and then complete.


It’s a long promising, then setting

a date.  I honestly worked


out a soundproof August. A year.

Maybe a little timescale


so you aren’t wondering.

To find a way to stop


calling you my similar boat

is exhilarating and


a big project. I think this is my last big

spring. It’s just getting


to be spring here too. 







Just circle whatever I’m thinking.

I don’t do postmortems.


Rehash the non-romantic trying-days,

broaching—the jump.


To explore or else break

an upheaval past reset.


Knowing that you’re up.

If that stops, rehashing,


wondering whether, and telling why

also stops. I’m sorry


I feel just as bad to talk about.

Like I get sucked


there to help and feel afterwards.

Protect. You go ahead.


On the table, this far thing.

If you decided


to explore me again, of course

I’d like going.







Day two—I’ll just find

an ending.  Kind


of gritty.

Think, look out.


Get back then.

Today my friend sent


the window.

I needed so much,


it threw me. Faith?

I’ll ask,


and maybe I can show you.


My friends can make

what they want to make.



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