The Difference Between Lonesome & High Lonesome, Part 1Jen Tynes
I have felt a tenderness in the region of women and men, an open mouthiness. You bird and dog, runneth over the heels/ the heels and plastic wonder bread bags of home. I am yore Jumanji, lady— why don't you call when I'm near. I act on habit-tat. I act on everything comes out my mouth. * * * No panties or an elastic understanding of sky coming out of prison-ish meal. Some people love each other in the back of the house, that green stripe you struggled home from itself. It glows on the right hand, out of the way a couch is brought to with afghanings, penny-weights the eyes. You two are related like animals in cellophane, a ground beneath the rock. The whole sentence not. Or smell of not. Call in to that cornhole and see what it's gone. By the skin of a soapbox a little bird said.
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