quiet the noise we had a life with with pens on the counter and crumbs on the floor a junk drawer and our refrigerator with magnets holding up our principals there is the nick in the table, the wobbly leg fixed again, and the stain on the rail some marks provide definition and spirit others, […]

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“To Wallace Stevens, reality is the product of the imagination, as it shapes the world. Because it is constantly changing as we attempt to find imaginatively satisfying ways to perceive the world, reality is an activity, not a static object. We approach reality with a piecemeal understanding, putting together parts of the world in an […]

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Fortune by Dobby Gibson

Fortune We think we are little gods yet the one thing we fear most is to be left alone So we carve one another’s names into the desktops, drop rocks from the trestle. We invent and overuse the long vowel. To be loved, speak with your hands. To learn how, open a magazine and try […]

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Gone Before by Dobby Gibson

Gone Before Sadness, though your beard may be fake, your anonymity is quite real, whispered the dying man to his nurse, raising his arms for his last sponge bath. Early renderings had no vanishing point. Painters dream in oil. Dreams, like canaries, are sent down into our mineshafts to discover how long we might survive; […]

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