Dear Readers, September and sundering, a disillusionment or a destruction (something like that), a gain of sorts, long run, well after, scintillating to the point of retinal burn-in. We are so electrified to share today’s prose poem by Christine Bettis, “Lots“:
This poem appears in our sparkling-new Storm Cellar #4.3, in print here with downloads over there. Read on!
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