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    “On unfollowing me on twitter” by John Donne

    Now thou has loved me one whole day,Tomorrow when you leav’st, what wilt thou say?Wilt thou then antedate some new-made vow? Or say that nowWe are not just those persons which we were?Or, that oaths made in reverential fearOf Love, and his wrath, any may forswear?Or, as true deaths true marriages untie,So lovers’ contracts, images of those,Bind but till sleep, death’s image, them unloose? Or, your own end to justify,For having purposed change and falsehood, youCan have no way but falsehood to be true?Vain lunatic, against these ‘scapes I could Dispute and conquer, if I would, Which I abstain to do,For by tomorrow, I may think so too. – Posted…

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    Ketchican Wrestling

    by Jennifer Rae Vernon You look like you wrestled 1405’5, medium broad, crew-cut, redhead My uncles wrestled, and my brothers, tooI’m standing in the airport line, watching you You wear your tee-shirt proud, Ketchican wrestlerwhite cursive on dark red Bet you spit to make weight,ran stairs in snow pants Cocked head, no jacket, you earned itstill, got both hands in your pockets, Eighteen, going home for Christmasduffle bag hanging from shoulder Camouflage printmilitary’s got you in their grip Little one. My Jesus wish?halt the combat That makes ours Vetsand Satan’s rich

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    The Thing Is by Ellen Bass

    to love life, to love it evenwhen you have no stomach for itand everything you’ve held dearcrumbles like burnt paper in your hands,your throat filled with the silt of it.When grief sits with you, its tropical heatthickening the air, heavy as watermore fit for gills than lungs;when grief weights you like your own fleshonly more of it, an obesity of grief,you think, How can a body withstand this?Then you hold life like a facebetween your palms, a plain face,no charming smile, no violet eyes,and you say, yes, I will take youI will love you, again – Posted from my iPhone

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    Summons by Robert Francis

    Keep me from going to sleep too soonOr if I go to sleep too soonCome wake me up. Come any hourOf night. Come whistling up the road.Stomp on the porch. Bang on the door.Make me get out of bed and comeAnd let you in and light a light.Tell me the northern lights are onAnd make me look. Or tell me cloudsAre doing something to the moonThey never did before, and show me.See that I see. Talk to me tillI’m half as wide awake as youAnd start to dress wondering whyI ever went to bed at all.Tell me the walking is superb.Not only tell me but persuade me.You know I’m not…