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128 pages, Paperback
First published January 15, 2001
A few nights ago
A man swears he saw me pump gas
With the children
At a convenience store
Like a punchline you get the next day
Nothing can run when you've broken its legs.
Nothing can fly when you trim its feathers
With a knife, a stone...
I am young
And they think
Maybe I'll escape
Becoming a certain type
Of man...
I can read the white
Man's voodoo,
Powerful spells
Which have eaten
The world,
And prevented
Anything good from sticking here,
I am young
And they hope
I will hone my studies
Into a terrible blade.