This poem is taken from Stand 241, 22(1) March - May 2024.
Four Poems
But Not the Painting of a Tennis Court Without a Net You Said Was a Portrait of Love
The stained single futon
Lou finally told me was too thin to sleep on.
A hot pink and orange suitcase, zip rusted,
I’d forgotten I owned.
...
The stained single futon
Lou finally told me was too thin to sleep on.
A hot pink and orange suitcase, zip rusted,
I’d forgotten I owned.
...
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