Drew Gardner
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I Opened a Fall
I opened a
fall in dimmed haywire
a blizzard
pit in flute plume
store
shifting in the ground’s other garment
just lash
the humming bird’s
thirsty
sky, enjammed blue
on the
outskirts of mortification
a thumb
slowly, outright
a careful
chart in fruitful trouble
of things
sorting wheat from payfire stumble
erased
institution,
the economy
of the given
ignition
mother earth is pregnant for the third
time
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