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Poetry #337
(published July 5, 2007)
by Aleathia Drehmer
Walking to work in the evening,
the blistering humidity
with the weight of a millstone
fastened snugly around my neck.

Bicycles scattered on lawns
like crooked tombstones
in a graveyard.
No sounds of children on the street,
only the noxious humming
of air conditioners.

Earthworms dried to the concrete
in crazy geometric shapes,
crunching under my running shoes,
pulverizing to dust,
corpses in my tread.

Sweat trickles down my neck
in raging rivulets
feeding into one large river
that melts at the small of my back.
Winter never looked so good.

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The Next Poetry piece (from Issue #338):

In a Hot Country
by Anne Cammon

The Last few Poetry pieces (from Issues #336 thru #332):

Aunt Louanda's Pool
by Laura Goldman

by Aleathia Drehmer

Anywhere But Troy
by Alison Eastley

He Falls Asleep
by Alison Eastley

Chakra Blue
by Alison Eastley

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