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April 1, 2025 / barton smock

in every boy who can’t find his mother there is a boy who can’t find his mother

I am
when I drink
a birthmark
removal
expert
or an angel
privately sad
who prolongs
with a rabbit
held together
by grief
a whale’s
insomnia…

Boredom is a mirror’s god.

Pianos
in the winter
are cruel.

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