Summer 2007 • Vol. XXIX No. 3 PoetryJuly 1, 2007 |

I, Moderate

Everybody's pain, everyone's suffering. I'm bleached So bright the sun crawled under the shingles. I blacked out In the alley behind The Someplace. Everything happens when it's supposed to, Even if you don't like it—makes it more: O, by the way management Demands flexibility, chase your cheese for no reason other than If's good for the gut. There will be tests, homework, space for the mountain You'll tote home. Sheep line up, five deep with orders To clap harder (several carbon copies distributed, spread Through the noise), make notice, transcribe. Obscure language Rescues an otherwise un-noteworthy product. Chasing The origin swells to Olympic routine. The committee Accepts the customary bribe, swears to this fact In open court. They get off: recorded further as fact, several Sheep scaled the wall that night. Wool's listed On the Merc, nobody dares sell short. Nobody dares Be less than productive. Embryos fatten the Left, too, And the Righteous. Their attention leaves Someth

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Yard Sale

By Claudia Grinnell

Everybody's pain, everyone's suffering. I'm bleached So bright the sun crawled under the shingles. I blacked out In the alley behind The Someplace. Everything happens when it's supposed to, Even […]

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