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POETA SIN BRAZOS
THE WHOLE DEBT
just as I was launching my life, extending the web of my friendships, adding
magicians, librarians, architects, horticulturalists, house
lawyers, horse lawyers, CIOs, videographers, EFL flagellants, instructional diviners...
just when the langoustines had me by the throat, when the side exits were all
blocked, when the nacreous clouds began to move in, when the power grid was
on the verge of extinction, when the atrial gas main had not yet ruptured, when
the Mad River was rising, when the edges of my palms were just beginning to
itch...
just when the air was loud with the sound of invisible mockery, when the
world, paralyzed by littleness, was becoming dull, when all the birds headed for
the bourbon hidden in the corn, when cheers of ill will resounded from the
abandoned sawmill, when craven acolytes were craving ions...
just when the sky was dark with birds, the ground black with snakes, the river
choked with otters, the mesa teeming with beetles, the mountains pocked with
bees...
my parents slammed the door of the oven of the soufflé of death and the feisty
yeast of conjured life began to rise
Bill Yarrow
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