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June 7, 2016 / barton smock

pink verse (ii)

there’s a kid on a bike with a machete and she’s run your brother up a tree. your brother is taking off his clothes and the kid has a toe she treats like a loose tooth.

you watch as your mother tattoos the parts of her body she doesn’t like.

the cross on her ankle
an insomniac’s
plus sign.

I say to the bird of the chipped brain
that faith
is fascination’s

bruise…

the food is gone that was seen by prayer

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