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Frank Hornung

My Worries Are Still Adrift



My worries are still adrift

cannot anchor in a story

I see the remnants of a ship

loose beams

bumping against the poem skin

let them in

and you will drown

nosy nail

tell me your tale

before the vessel bursts

a lifeboat made of broken lines

I lend my pulses

to your prose and pains

syringe plays

bloody solos down

screams

I let you in









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