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| Sjogren's Syndrome |
| Anything begins with water: the mouth of the Euphrates, villages, city-states, empires, all our ideas gathered, passed down, one place, another, now and later. And stays alive as well: cell, tributary, heart, the body a creek bed thirsty for a few drops to roll eyeballs around in, to swallow so naturally air is gourmet. Surface leaves, twigs, plants dried up like the privates, their ache for this element. The need not to always reach deeper. |
| published in The Spoon River Poetry Review |
| Louise Declines an Invitation |
| Wish you could join us... But the world is flat and people die by falling off, I will not travel. I study maps, blue veins, paths within paths leading to the edge-- but never past. I keep a globe, imagine other shapes: apples, pears, and oranges. Their bowl. Always I come back to the table, the wall, the door, my body on a tight, flat sheet. |
| published in The Cumberland Poetry Review |
| M A R C J F R A Z I E R |
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