These
failures of spring!
What
am I to do with them,
The
rising river, the hole in my head,
And
National Poetry Month?
It’s
all like when I first
Discovered
sex and Coca-Cola,
Not
in that order. I was like,
O
sweet angels in heaven what
My
parents never told me!
Back
then, I knew this girl
Devoted
to leaving rumors of love
Scattered
all around the playground.
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