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Night cuts these streets into lines Night cuts these streets into lines of stunted trees of parked cars, the steady rivers of headlights, and bus routes — those imaginary lines that loop. with men and all I want is a way back seemed like a bright idea — there is a line streets as if suspended by the stout blue legs A line tied onto traffic signals, stop signs ignore. A sort of path that dogs sniff. As I stumble on alone and half asleep, to pull me home the way you've pulled me When I've reached the quiet of unlit rooms, than moonbeams, cast white pulses Belline Chao will soon be featured in an anthology celebrating the work of Weldon Kees. Her poems now appear in Askew, Connotation Press, Mosaic, and The Packinghouse Review. She is currently pursuing an MFA at the University of North Carolina — Wilmington. contact |
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