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Michael Robins

Cargo at the Curb

 

 

Rest & receive it—

 

Or wake unhappily

in nylons & calves

daily, no mileage

nor love

 

               Or maybe

love, cautiously love

a wife’s worthy name

 

She’s the riot sure

as shit, the meadow

 

you’d cut thoroughly

& through

 

                  Hardly

a smile in otherwise  

 

-

 

Innumerable Gibbons

 

 

Neither a black fly nor

 

that party you dreamt

completed

 

                   Neither

pervasive strangeness

becoming & wonder

 

 

Not the knuckles, not

a weed by its root

pulled up—

 

                    Visitor,

neither sleeplessness

when love scars a chin

 

Visitor, your name here

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