Poem, Myths, Blood Stories
Hydraulic Counterpressure
January 19, 2025
we engage, at nightfall, that old trope
inserting singular supernatural guesses
into everything, saying, what if our homelands
had ancient frames, shifting faces
a thousand animals who, like ourselves
nap in the woods, sit down to dinner
browsing newly popular cafés, chattering
chatting, circumlocuting each other
saying without saying, do you know me
do you remember the joy our blood sang
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