by Rosalie Moffett
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were the first 3-D printers. So I imagine the machine
sucking up the souls of dead objects—i.e., the gun
thrown in the sewer, the deck chair collapsed
and splintered on the freeway—and offering
them a home in the home-miracle of a prosthetic ear
and splintered on the freeway—and offering
them a home in the home-miracle of a prosthetic ear