
Poetry

Acquainted with the Cold
Two strangers meet at a bar in the dead of winter: We can’t stop/erasing the ghost between our bodies, leaving//our mouths’ lost words all over/one
Two strangers meet at a bar in the dead of winter: We can’t stop/erasing the ghost between our bodies, leaving//our mouths’ lost words all over/one
Today, while at the South Lake Tahoe farmers market, I met Kim Wyatt, whose Bona Fide Books published a book we reviewed a few weeks
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