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Brought Back

By Chris Forhan Poetry

It was bigger than me And I felt like a sick child Dragged by a donkey Through the myrtle. ————-—Vic Chesnutt I dipped my hand in the wrong pond plucked the black rose did not know that I did not know The red wolf bit me I bit back I was pulled by a beast…

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Bone Box

By Chris Forhan Poetry

I’m not dead so what do I know. It’s a box of bone I’m in. I work the crash site, push glass bits to the ditch with a broom. A swift hit of spring stuns me, but what’s that. My soul’s not cracked in half for its gold yet. It might be bone in there,…

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