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June 2012
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August 2012

July 2012

old poem old world old day

Don't be a communist. Communists

are complex. Their dollars count

backwards. Can't remember a field

minting the first zloty. The next

ration's like a communist babe's

heartfelt march through the music

of her modernities. Communist in

blue trousers tries to grin like

freshly watered garden. Like trout


Communists flounder in books

they never finish. They

blame you.


It's their time to read us.

what it means to be catholic

In absence. Of some particular. Breathing.

Having taken breath. Where are the squirrels this time of year?

What could I do but try not to cry. To come so near to shutting down.

But pulling back. I kept 

saying Nobody is depriving or deprived of the good of it.

That is full access. I want full access and I'll have it. Or else.