Threnodies of childhood.
Hatch a nut, inhabit
the boxcar detached
from all the others
on a rusted track
where at erratic
intervals something
moves as on an empty
Sunday bent
over fragments
of a model airplane,
navigator grizzled,
biting so hard [...]
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That summer it was the castoff
hundred pounds of Idaho reds
sizzled in Crisco, salt
a mainline luxury, it was
a repetitious dry tickle in the throat
numb to water, our
armpits smelling of rotten
apples, your
belly swelling
with the child I'd plante [...]
How can we slow time down? How can we shed rot, Raspad? Sleepless nights on the Volga coast unleash miracles.
Where the eye relied on the droughty steppe for mercy, there, in swirling mist, the haystack of revolution rises.
In distant granaries a [...]
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