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Contributor Notes




Justin Hardecker

Justin Hardecker

 

 

 

without a ripple

 

 

ready for the end but

too weak to bring it through

we fight ourselves toothless and repeating

 

through unending settings

and risings of one angry red

star

 

the clouds begin to pull themselves

out of the flat sky and crawl

overland toward us

 

I become small and small

compressing pumps filters repositories

cables and transformer

 

until the longing clinging like a shadow

is left nothing to hold

and I slip through its fingers

 

 

 

 

knife

 

 

          is a question

nothing so split can resist

the cry for justification

 

without ever being more

than one side of the thing

what do we expect

 

we are not talking about a wristwatch

 

 

 

 

smiling

 

 

largely a failure

that’s okay

 

thinking it’s time I

came back in anyway

 

it will come out fine

it will come out fingers

 

I thought I had found something

but what then       who’s got it

 

what grace this is

eluding me

 

what empty fingers

empty o

 

hello night