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From the archives

American Judge

The normal is gone

The Silver Scream

On heebie-jeebies past and present

Space Is Not Equal to Y or X

 

I wake to the world

constructed without dreams,

the one I left to dust itself

off in blue exhaustion.

 

Uncorked wine, just a

glass gone, rind of cheese,

hunk of bread tilted sideways,

The exoskeleton of

grapes, vine left without

a clue to their colour.

 

The rains of winter descend

outside, and I am

unbalanced, in wool socks

waiting for distance

to become time.

Caitlin Elizabeth Thomson‘s work has appeared in numerous journals including the Hart House Review, Going Down Swinging, Labletter, The Toronto Quarterly and Neon. Her first collection of poems, The Victims of Ted Bundy: Washington State and Oregon, is now available from Jeanne Duval Editions.

Related Letters and Responses

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