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Internal temperature in the winter moth

Kate Schapira

Dense brittle fur dull
foil color
bitter bristles
loose in the freeze
this pursy conservation
body bundle
dragging under umbrella

seeks methods of
nonshivering thermogenesis

to maintain the red spot on
a ravenous scan.
Ice would dismiss me:
Get out of here, creature.

Plastic pearl flicker
flurries and falls from
me in the winter mouth.

You’d be surprised.
Heat is under here.
This low weak
papery to the eye
dust to the focus group
rickety superstition
already dead in season,

grip with heat
other than friction.

Kate Schapira

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