††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††††† †††††††LINNEA OGDEN







Driving through fog and other peopleís
homes, stalled cars, radio neither live
nor recorded, we have not
alleged takings, are not generous,

have no sense of being heard, enclosed
by our words, a window wonít
roll down, we donít contend that our stuff
is anything but eye contact

refused again and again. That personality
will crystallize, that it all went wrong
in the process of meeting in the middle,
that communication did nothing

to bring us closer, with each other
or anyone else, that we are trapped in
clear resin is a given, like sculpture made
without feeling for the boundary between us.






I probably bought that porous explanation

Your green lobby painted halfway
In patches like the sun

I hear we have made some passage
Make the most of it

Make stitches
The streets an ancient delineation

Of romance
I would walk my bike for you






In any school full of water bottles at least two
contain vodka

Collusion enterprise
I visit the South Pole via letters and numbers

Should I get the salt
I think Iím going to get the salt

Suddenly we started wearing hats I like
I like how we relate

to cutlery
She had a bite of I donít know what

Engaged compulsively in reading for the blind
and dyslexic

and often with good reason the sheep choose
to eat the shepherdess



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