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Nobody Wants To Know My Name


no not skin graham cracker crust
crumbles and blows away
no not eyes but portals to limbo
(what life? where?)
no not lips but the sardonic grimace of volcanic gape
emoting magma
no head on this but a mass of kinetic contradictions
held by the force of consequence
(assuming a rigid cultural posture)
no---no neck, no truck
my extremities have escaped and knock around
writhe and wiggle minus identity
i'm not here. i'm out of touch


ears?

Written by Wanda Coleman

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