UNDERGROUND VOICES: POETRY
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JANIE HOFMAN
Spines He insisted on an illustrated book for his every action. He went to the library and studied spines. His favorite colours: navy, burgundy, grey; his favorite width and height: one inch by twelve inches. He photographed them on Saturday and checked them out on Tuesday. He lined them up underneath his glass table, spines upwards, smeared the glass with grape jelly, coffee. Let it dry. Now he could see what the spines would look like once they were old and dirty. The navy spine with white letters was the most readable. He wrote his first book: Me eating while leaning on the stove. Illustrated by Me. In Name Only She had a name, said to herself, I will be safe with this name because it's not Julie or Marge and doesn't end in the letter y. She printed the name on her tax form, licked the stamp and slipped the letter into the mail box, flakes of snow sneaking down the cold red metal mouth that snapped shut on the envelope and bit her name in two. |
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