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Poem: Tales of the Kingston Housing Authority 

Stuffy but not sweaty
the apartment breathes moist and slow.
Mom sleeps on the brown, corduroy couch surrounded
by mess
Toys on the floor.
Unwashed clothes on armrests
Cody and Cole sleep under blankets one room away
and outside in the parking lot, Eric and Devin point
a 12-gauge shotgun and 9mm rifle at each other
an explosion
and buckshot
the size of green peas
pepper holes into the bedroom wall
in the morning
mom stuffs tissue inside the holes
so wasps and yellow jackets
cannot enter

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Speaking of Home, sleep

  • A poem by James Nani.


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