Californian | Poetry

S. Brook Corfman

  after Brian Teare, for Hillary Except dew of morning no rain marks the shoulder, relaxed into neon. Drought is a specific kind of lack, rough to touch, translucent, but we pay in many ways for grass. I like information, and you liked when I thought in my poems. The edge of a hand shielding an eye and the pupil simple as a carnation opens or lops off, heavy and...

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