by Johann Sarna
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And wakes to a world of future
enophiles in utero
wishing to conjure
the pony and pomelo
the pony and pomelo
at once. One sings we
in a time of chastised dreams
in a time of chastised dreams
and militia checkpoints as the wind
licks the grapefruit, never
licks the grapefruit, never
tasting its inner flower.