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& in the Mornings

ISSUE:  Summer 2020


& in the mornings sometimes awoke so cold
—the wind in Iowa City was brutal—
those days of doubt, those days of troubled land,
that I did not want to get out of bed &
creep down crooked stairs to the bathroom 
on the second floor shared with two other graduate students, 
one also a poet who was innocuously quiet & thin,
& the other a medical student studying the art of the body.
I ate the same avocado, tomato & cream cheese 
sandwich for lunch & dinner—later 
in New York City it was pasta shells 
with marinara or olive oil & broccoli— 
I liked the order & monotony, because to want 
was to tempt the gods, because modesty 
was the equivalent of survival.



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