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POETRY
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CASTRATO by Annie Kim
I want to be a boy, you tell the man who analyzes you. Free of desire. He nods, light flashing off his thin gold spectacles. No one called the singing boys castrati to their face. So evirato, meaning one unmanned, musico: one making music. Boys aren’t free of desire, of course— Though not by ordinary…
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VIOLINS: VIOLENCE by Annie Kim
Vitula. Viol. Violino. Violare. Violentus. Violentia. Origin and History of Violence, reads the header. You’ve visited this page 3 times.* * * Last night you dreamed again about your father— You had him by the wrists: above your head, the way you’d catch a snake, one hand beneath his flickering tongue, fighting hard to not…
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JELLYFISH by Shenandoah Sowash
All afternoon we’ve been coring apples with the conviction of inmates. A train sings somewhere close, steps off the tracks & lands in my palm. The apples spill like people out of taxis – red-faced & round. My hand is too small to hold you. Or the train. We’re fragile as jellyfish, as little boys…
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