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| Red Tether Diane Wakoski |
A boy in some Dickens school tipped his inkwell and poured out a continent of black sail, lines flapping as a map crackled in her luggage. Thrust and parry. Tight, a bud, a parachute, the crystal still packed into point, the miniature ship, lines collapsed, before it's in the bottle. Puffy coat, a trip to the Azores, the carnation she found while walking her dog on the lake, its stem a green line of oxygen, the dog's leash a Red Giant, the fog off the lake that rendered thoughts of disappearance, none of this relevant to the lost pilot or the girl visited a visitation! on the beach by Amelia Earhart, whose navigator went down with her, but of whom we never speak. My Diamond Dog, never on a leash, it's always running away. Her dog is visibly tethered to her, the Martian line glowing on a foggy beach. |
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