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CONCRETE MEAT PRESS
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e-chapbook 001 Michael Curran - page 3
Pirouette and Punch
Leaning over, with the short breaths of a year old cat,
the black hole of a shoe gawping at you,
the night ready to beat out your senses with pirouette and punch.
Days ending like worms,
as God’s feathers flick and moan.
Pinch the candle,
the peaceful conflict of sleep.
Communion
There he sat a fat old man white hair, yellow jumper
feverishly shaping the cross with his right hand
blessing me he said and I said thank you
meaning it too,
waiting for a mystery to happen a MIRACLE
two other men sat across from this priest of sorts
one fearful one coping
and the yellow jumper
told whoever was listening do not kiss me
if you do not love me.
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