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July 2018, vol 14 no 2

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Anna Cates

Poet's Diary

Today I visit my chiropractor. He adjusts vertebra, stacked like pliable stanzas beneath his Pulsar tool. I eat a peach and wear blue jean cullotes. I drive from Blanchester to Wilmington, each pine tree along the road an inspiration. I pass endangered industries, bicyclists, road signs: Pizza, take home and bake, $5.39 . . .

black-eyed Susans –
a skunk slips through
the open gate


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