Statement

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The smell of chlorine and freedom lives sharp in my mind.

I could recreate our bonfire dances for you.

 

But how can you not remember?

It is as if July slipped away, replaced

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after Seamus Heaney 

 

Poem

makes me think of pomme,

apple, eden, pomme de terre, myth

in earth, God caked in mud and root.

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The outer planets don’t have phases. The moon has phases, and Venus and Mercury have phases, because they sometimes come between us and the sun. To us, they are sometimes made partially of shadows. But the outer planets are too far away.

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i.                  

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On Saturday, he came for the ticket at 3:15 and she came at 4. He went towards that way and she went towards the other way. The event was in a week. It required sun, which he hoped for. She wanted rain.

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There are places they tell us not to go,

like that tiny town six hours outside of Philadelphia.

Where pale skin will reach inside your chest and pull out your dignity with a rope.

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The rapping is light, light enough that Otis wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t (gasping) awake. Fortunately (unfortunately), Otis hasn’t been sleeping since the incident, so he stumbles across the dark apartment to reach the door even as fair knuckles brush against peeling wood again.

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The houses have roots here. Even the air is
entrenched, an aftertaste of passion. The breathless
trees trap with resin, and for
 
good reason. The dark fields of the republic
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I have a vivid memory of an old photograph — I am 5 years old. I am in the park across the street from my house in my school uniform, clutching in my hands two Barbie dolls and laughing.

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Ann Arbor: liberal heart of the Midwest, is the place I call home. A beloved college town in which things like a deer cull can monopolize months of public debate.