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Timshel






I went out with the dog to
see the Colorado mountains
It was bone dark with sticks
legs lit Bare broken    
washed snow on her back Why
do birds suck flowers if
fleas lay eggs in their mouths
wings come run to wander   air witch
see the mountains go suicide     cloned   
woods a social loss      cake sack   
doom wool      lay a hollow coal seam   
double-breasted     Blue leather   
farm down bouquets to see happen
uncle plum got even so he lowered the sofa
for fuckface to lie under      
face down my       
dolls slept in the well    
when I talk to my daughters
the one listening to me like it's 2005





Cassie Vogel is a writer living in Brooklyn. Her work can be found in NEW, Keith LLC, and elsewhere.