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June 14, 2016 / barton smock

core

the thinking was

the kids
they’d report
my disappearance

I saw two men trade guns
and assured
my brother
that men
differ

no one
today
is dead, the newborn

is letting
the lipstick
dry

my other movie is a fistfight

my other movie is the horse
my drowning
mother
drank

my other movie is not the dog
of my sister’s
first

hand, nor the nothing

I taste
on my way
to salt

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