interbirthbooks
handbound volumes of poetry, prose, and prints
To explode
Head blown a war-strapped
song We are that fracture
Rut in heat a squeaking that
Cleavage looks like butts!
and flow my monthly courses
the Champions Sports Bar
hunger in the hugging
today And awkward
Pink-brown wrinkled
perfumey soap my hands are
Headache from "Gain"
The least poetic thing