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1 " You're from somewhere, aren't you? "
― , Fire Baton (Arkansas Poetry)
2 " Get up to turn your chair away from hera few degrees. And look at me. I maybe someone else's longed-for phantom. Pourme some more wine; tell me the story; listen:it's a dreary wish to want the whole world ghostless. "
3 " The crunch of bone is what religion thrives on. "
4 " The grapes he foraged set my teeth on edge.I want to hack through their wild vines, dissectthis anger. It's a tangle: steep hill strungwith old foxgrapes among the hardwood, toughenough to swing from (proto-bungee rushthat's like a fit of rage, adrenalinalive inside me), or to strangle in.Vines choke. "