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a journal of literature & art

Llewellyn McKernan

The Good Poem

 
takes on the battle of what
does not belong. Lifting its long
Roman nose, it sniffs
the air for lilac and mud,
the cedar’s green, the dust
on the radar of its
dreams. It takes on
the leather belt that cinches
the empty waist, opens
the Mason jar, frees
eight fireflies
overnight.
 
 
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