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Poem: Pragmatic Musings 

Do not) tell me I am

a bright-eyed child

I will (not) reply.

I am monstrous

I am macabre

I am leviathan

On the mornings I wake,

I take a wrench to my teeth

& my three-pronged tongue

dances through shark-tooth dentures—

a nerodia cyclopion through lilies

my tree trunk thighs clap:

boom boom

held up by knobbly feet and gnarled toes,

squashing dwarfs and giddy goblins

wind washes my dirt-crusted scales


Ethereal fingers quell

my spindly hair

to uncloak

two ceaseless Black Holes

that will scour




to prove

what i am (not)

—Sara Gannon


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