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Bruce Covey

When, as unhealthy as it might seem, you clarified the axis
& broke the butter along its fault. It’s happier the wrong way
With traffic lights designating verticals & horizontals & cease
& flow. This garden is divided into the edibles & the nots
Even, left, among the silvers & golds, the groundcovers
& perceptions of something either tingling or ticking

& when the siren sounds & see everything in the rearview
Backward & closer than they appear with creamy san-serifs
Stretching across the bottom, little alleys to spin a ball through
& see which fortune emerges. I love you. You walk to secure
An extra pair of chopsticks & little more gingerale, east
Among rows & north among columns, the fountain

& the hope of an epiphany bestowed, bubbles zigzagging
Amidst what’s true & what might have been

Bruce Covey

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Author Discusses Poems