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KC Trommer

7 to 46th Street/Bliss

24 January 2010
Vol. 9, No. 4
poetry

            When the train picks up speed, it sounds like a woman screaming,

one woman all over the city, releasing her heat in a high, steady wail,


            smearing her red mouth along the tunnel walls. I make and unmake

myself. When the doors open, anyone can come in, anyone does.

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