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Joe Milazzo

                               THE DREAM
                               IN WHICH WE
                               IN BULK

East of inside, where the coats
groom their cowlick obsessions
over stoic luggage, that must be
the land where your grudges
crouch. I keep awake to stay
away. I imagine how the windows
play leopards even as they practice
their welding. But I cannot weasel
out of the yew's shade indefinite-
ly. What anesthetics, what vinegars
rollick in the completions
where you'd have had me follow
you. Reach me a snakebite, give
me venom, glimmering green
and rude with filaments. With my
solemn relish, I'll demolish
your sturdy pen, your vale
of stolen chains. With one
wolf, I'll scramble your wax
fruits, send them mewling, straight back
to the artless origins of their pomp.

Joe Milazzo
is the author of The Terraces (Das Arquibancadas) (Little Red Leaves Textile Series, 2012). His writings have appeared in H_NGM_N, The Collagist, Drunken Boat, Black Clock, and elsewhere. Joe lives and works in Dallas, TX, and his virtual location is slowstudies.net/jmilazzo