Baghdad
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Midnight in March

I sometimes wonder about the blood on Mars and the indigo stilettos on the streets of New York. The ‘tack, tack, tack’ sound against the sidewalk beneath the bourbon leaves of an autumn day as I look out my open window encased in old world brown brick with crumbling mortar. I’ve been trying to rid… Continue reading
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Radio-free Lamp Ray

I come from a place not known a high hill tucked far away behind the sugar plants and the factories belching out babies in bleached Red Radio Flyers Continue reading
