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Jenny Browne

The Sacrum Speaks of Cheating

18 November 2008
Vol. 8, No. 3
poetry

Say I'm the bone once believed

to raise our dead up

from the cold or that I believe

in anything but the speed

of each sublimating tumble

when ice moves directly into air

or when we do, weightless

with craving…

If the Past Is Not in Your Travel Plans This Afternoon

15 November 2008
Vol. 8, No. 3
poetry, prose poem

Then the sky is not in your clouds. And if the wings are not firmly attached to the mind and the armrest grown restless, recline. When the blue-suited voice of reason asks if you want the whole can and ice with that and not if you'd like her back, you can see how nothing is securely fastened.

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