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May 2020
I'm being stung by bees in the snow.

my pants fill with air

my pocket takes warmth from fingertip

four numb

very touching and very moving
sentiment from twenty years of last century

taking warm rocks from the unsettling effigy

ingesting them

it is too painful she tells me

a ram's horn

being stung by bees in the winter

chewing on dolphin meat in the summer

the beach is glass
the salt boils

my soles bubble
yellow cloud pushes me up

I glide on the hooves
in my new pelt
Robert Carroll Spear
Written by
Robert Carroll Spear  ...
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