This poem is taken from Stand 216, 15(4) December 2017 - February 2018.
Two Poems
My son won’t
My son won’t walk
in the field with me
unless he gets to carry
a machete.
I finger the weeds. He
whacks them.
...
My son won’t walk
in the field with me
unless he gets to carry
a machete.
I finger the weeds. He
whacks them.
...
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