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W. S. Di Piero

Nov/Dec 2016

The Sidewalk Harvest

By W. S. Di Piero

They must be moving, maybe changing towns. Here’s the saw he sized their bedstead on, and flatware, cheerful flattened beach balls, throw rugs, highball glasses, steamer trunk. It takes too […]

Nov/Dec 2016

In the Marina

By W. S. Di Piero

It squeezes the spleen this sunny winter’s New Year’s morning, not the pain itself but the too much of it, the inexcusable with its perfect right to exist, the grass […]