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Sampson Starkweather

imagine this as music
there is light
then there isn’t
it hurts
what doesn’t fall
under the uncertainty principle
I promise
women who put their heads
in those space helmets
are holy
if you review the tape
technically I fell in love
with your purse first
remember that play I wrote
with naked people crouched in trees
screaming SHUT UP CROW
as human-sized birds sit poolside
I don’t care what the critics think
rape in the Congo is a real problem
I don’t know why
I get so romantic
night is pretty
why does everyone assume
I’m watching the Super Bowl
words make us do dumb things
poor bastards
step right into the light
a field
party in Pittsboro
poke the fallen
for signs of life
nothing still
maybe a wave
from this distance
there is no way you could say
it wasn’t beautiful

Sampson Starkweather

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