Oct 14, 2024
Using form: Heterometric verse: Susan McLean, 'Teaching to the Test'
I know you have no use for them, poems with their sly quicksilver words that won’t just speak their minds, but carom through your head like startled birds. Is that despair or longing in their cries? Their dolors make no sense. They’ll never buy you larger-screened TVs or seats at sports events. But someday, as you watch a pair hold hands and leap from a burning tower, as you wait for test results…
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