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Ruth Forberg
Poems
Jul 2011
Anxious
It's as uncertain as death is certain.
Fish grapple at hooks and answers.
Pointy elbows scraped on bricks. Bruises.
Soap-making kits collecting dust.
Nobody wants them.
Nobody wants you.
A twelve-cent stamp doesn't get anyone
anywhere these days.
Written by
Ruth Forberg
Chicago
(Chicago)
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