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Archive for July 2nd, 2011

By Melanie Browne

I walk with the Merman,
we sit together as the tide rolls in

Lenin’s death was staged, he tells me
while stroking his long white beard,

The decaying parrot that sits on my shoulder
only speaks in mantras

I give a hard push
and the merman falls back into the sea,

He struggles with sea serpents,
but I stare ahead stoically

A cool blue haze obscures my view,
I pick at seaweed twisted around my ears

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