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by sally burnette

we’re standing outside              

or well i’m smoking                  

about work or something           

my shirt’s wet                            

i say the stain                                

she says nah                              

we agree it could be                      

she kisses my neck                    

in a gingko how many           

have plastic bags in them            

probably none & i smile        

hot damn! get some!                

she lets go of my hand                  

back up at the blue letters          

her apartment smoking

 & she’s just talking

   & it’s kinda raining

from leaning against the wall

    looks like a bunch of grapes

it’s more like a pregnant sea snail

  pearls wound around a snake

& i look up at a smiley-faced plastic bag

 trees in manhattan do you think don’t

    i say & she says i don’t know

& kiss her on the forehead

  a man yells from a passing yellow fiat

             to flip the driver off & i look

writhing on the bag THANK YOU!           PLEASE COME AGAIN

sally burnette is orig. from North Carolina but now lives in Boston. recent work is out/forthcoming in The Fem, Reality Beach, BOAAT, and Fuck Art, Let's Dance.

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