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We eat every part of the egg yes the shell yes the note inside


You open the door wearing a wolf-fur coat, a top 

with three trembled wolves, mismatched 


shoes, a haircut, thumbs. Beneath 

a tender of clouds all our friends share


needles. Call it cost disease. We delight in 

new economics, curated


hepatitis for all. Tomorrow

smears hospital. Dappled and algorithmic 


in the evening’s pennies, anatomy

belongs to the weather 


inside banks. We dress like ambitious 

vowels, like Directors 


at the Museum of Knives. Today’s folio

resembles a mouthful of salamanders. 


What minor American family. What Narcan 

flinches us in the morning’s patina and how 


many eyelashes swallowed? Don’t 

think about our tongues.

David Greenspan is the author of One Person Holds So Much Silence (Driftwood Press) and the chapbook Nervous System with Dramamine (The Offending Adam). He teaches in the Program in Technical Communication at the University of Michigan and is a PhD candidate at the University of Southern Mississippi. Recent work appears in Denver Quarterly, Fence, and Narrative. Find him online at

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