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XIII
Picture
HATZOLAH
 
He asked me would I like
to live deliciously and I said, actually,
man, I’m good. When I say good, 
 
I mean done, like I’m done com-
paring cum to sacrament, like
I’m done trying things I won’t like,
done, like, done. I can’t cure 
 
the condition of an earth
shared with other people. Think about all eight
billion of us and no wonder some folks load 
 
the toilet paper roll the wrong way. No 
wonder some tongues wreck. No wonder
 
momentum is the most important thing.
I am unkind fifty efficient times a day. Make it a 
           hundred.
Make 
 
it that grandma
I shoulder-checked to catch my Q train. Forget
‘til the next grandma, the next 
 
Q train, the next earth.
The night is young so, quick,
let’s fuck her, wishbone
her legs ‘til they break lucky. The prettiest
 
any girl can be is too young to know,
even you, girl, even the moon. Emergency
can just be, like,

​help, the song is losing its magic, help,
I forgot to cry over a gray hair, 
I did not architect the world
 
and the guy that did forgot
the black box, the emergency
exit, help, help, help.
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  • HOME
  • WINTER 2022 ISSUE
  • SUBMISSIONS
    • Submission Form
  • ABOUT
  • LITTLE BLACK BOOK
    • A NOTE FROM THE EDITORS
  • SHOP