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It sits with itself in its arms. Out of

the depth of its shame it starts singing

a hymn of pure shame, surging in the throat.

To hold a true note could be everything.

Getting the hang of itself would undo it.

An awkward lyric

Denise Riley

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Poem of the Week

Robert Majzels and Erín Moure

Soft Link 3

translated from the French written by
Nicole Brossard