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Problems of Scale

Joanna Ruocco

Your love is a tilt-a-whirl. My love is the circular beltway
Of a particle accelerator. That's not the beginning.

I wish we were abstinent. I wish we laughed at jokes.
Or grilled. I wish we grilled. I wish we were

patties of good beef. At the barbecue
On Cemetery Street. We held each other's

Digestion outside the body, and swayed.
I can't believe you like Dean Martin

A diagram of our dietary restriction identifies
That shaded lobe of intersection. We are a loose

Association of organs. I want to fry eggs
in your brainpan I wish we had children. I wish

Vegetables eat whatever they want.
You can't judge them. Make a poultice

of carnivorous ferns to cure head lice, crabs.
Technique older than scarabs

Scabies. Don't say it. Now we have
To burn everything.

Joanna Ruocco

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