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going out

Edward Mycue


I went out into the sun of broken glass
for the customary words
everywhere joined
like the ox to the cart.

I went out queer, clumsy, ready
eggshell-skinned
drinking the evening
thickening and soft.

I went out quelling my angers
getting jealous alone
trying it again
before the sunset faded.

I went out thinking
about my sexual mechanics
about a mirror reversal
rerunning choices.

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