This Ain't Your Mom's Poetry Book

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collected by michael mcadams

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michael mcadams

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andrew carlile

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michael mcadams

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m. r. butler

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michael mcadams

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kyoko eng

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michael mcadams

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summer award

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andrew carlile

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michael mcadams

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kevin wood

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michael mcadams

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summer award

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andrew carlile

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michael mcadams

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m. r. butler

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michael mcadams

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mark shelstrate

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a. chica

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michael mcadams

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m. r. butler

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summer award

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MIDNIGHT At night I cuddle to the sound, perhaps, it speaks to me. Your resonant wave, crests through my stagnation, disputing the channel.


BLUR

Radiant darkness, catches the corner of my closed eye. I roll to your side. Bring back the spare pillow. My toes crack in sigh, to such an allure. the remote teases my reach.

thomas agee

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m.m. r. r. butler butler page 24 #



mark schelstrate

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michael mcadams

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mark shelstrate

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michael mcadams

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