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Cassandra Schiemann

Carmen and I

2 December 2004
Vol. 4, No. 4
poetry, prose poem

This is where we enter. Carmen and I. Mom and I. Two rotten, two diseased, two dying. I say, "Mom, once we knew what it felt like to be idle." She's throwing frozen fish sticks in the oven for dinner. I'm watching her watching television.

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