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Shirked and non-plussed,
stalked and apprehended,
I suspended disbelief,
and identified abandon.

We have run
hot and cold
and underground
in conversation
to elegant frequencies of the supermind.
In one fragile second,
of a stupid barbequeue

a crack in my flimsy patria
opens up a
soft, crushing tear

you fit into, with such momentary abandon,

While I wait, for
some witless fury to engage
late silence over fall, over winter,
on an unmanned planet,
populated with my lesser instincts.

Frigid and untapped,
destroyed and then rescued,
I am trying to avoid the garbage
barely contained within these decent homes, these fields and flowers and debris and human waste and denims and ghettos and endless streets without names upon names upon names i am

calling, later, out to you:

Just stay, and stare!
as two different countries come by, playing two different musics
the sudden sounds tear up the streetside silence between us,
by erroneous and irrational response.



Marisa Prietto


March 2, 2010

Coal Minds

Return nothing and nothing is happening.

We are invariably in love, with people, undeniably invented, by cats.

It’s not hard, but it’s true.

Eleven days and eight hours,

I’m hoping it will make me smarter, acting like nothing happened to the

smell of summer night, the bricks and then the red and then the fugue and then the fighting,

Fighting, right?

For esteem, for someone younger, smarterprettier, we are all in doubt


it’s too hot, in my esteem, to think.

Your turn, now.

Give me some furtive gutless compliment.

I’ve been doing it all wrong,

collecting rain drops on one side of my tongue, while the rest smacks on,

not knowing that the other half is tasting,

in the guttural drawl

of conversation

the honey of an abandoned mind

as if it were coal,



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