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L a u r e n G o r d o n
Your poem is putting a sheet over his head
eye-holes cut-out
and he is knocking on the doors of strangers,
asking for candy
and he is tripping over a steep step
of concrete to ring a bell
and he glows in the wind,
floats.
copyright 2014 by Lauren Gordon
guest editor: Sara Biggs Chaney
Afterword
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