

The PositionThere is a question insideThe Position
of me at the bottom of my
liver and there it
has sat since last winter.
The fool with the eyes in the
back of
his head will someday need to see the shape of what is in front of him.
I'm curious to know where you are and if you ever feel some strange movement in the pit of your liver.


Third WifeIn the lamplight the coals in her eyes glow a vermillionThird Wife
reminiscent of the red-tile roofs draped like tapestry over
the walls of Beijing. As she blinks, still only
semi-awake having lost some pieces
of a dream cracked mesmirically open at the touch of his hand, she looks for the sun
in the cracks of the ceiling but its light does not seep through them.
Her body, despite the jumble of flesh and organs lain across it, groans
with a loneliness unique to the people of her country, and the movement
this


Five Short Poems- Confusion has never kept me from anything. If I dont know what I want, I take it anyway.Five Short Poems
- Make me a moon with wax paper. Make the rain out of sugar and color the sky with your crayons. I want to see the world through child-class eyes I want you to make
everything soft
and accessible just like it used to be.
- Shut my eyes and tell me why you left and why you came back. Lull me to sleep in your arms, love me so soft so sweet that I will never wake up and look at your


Soldiershe is lolling hands bloody napalm-colored eyes too wide, she falters face in the mud: and hands will pick her up, waves of boots from underneath will carry her skyward; in she breathes she breathes in pieces of lead and bursts in airless conflagration; her heart will burn the forest and her hands if you touch themSoldier
will break you slowly in half she wont beg you but understand its just a habit born of life lived as an explosion making soot from fire never angry enough
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f (n) =3n+1
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