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once we met I felt the gar hollow out of Gar Creek.

I felt the quarry take a half day. I felt the babies all get names.

Hey Stupid, your terracotta army will not budge us.

I slept in the truck when the single-wide

waffed flood and basketball.

All my hobbies end pissing on corn.

We hoist dad’s motor up the chain fall and it dangles

in the eclipse like a full drowsy lawn ornament.

You only love that light through a rabbits ear.

Makes all of God’s vain creation once’d over in coral.

Baby, your love’s marbled in fig newtons.

And crusted in pollen on the smoke bench.

And slapped onto my belly in inch-wide welts.

And eats silver fish from the breaker.

And palms real fish that the gar don’t eat.

And I can’t get that in town.

I can’t just name everything.

Even cats fuck angry under the house.

Zach Arnett is a poet in Fort Wayne, IN. His work is found in places like NOÖ and Stone of Madness.

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Published in issue 5


Published in issue 5


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