Morgan Parker

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POEM FOR THE JUNE ECLIPSE

We’ll call the bugs into
our mouths: exchange

Margins and rivers in there
through the village holding hands

We nothing but half-finished
tattoos: ladybugs to the eardrum

I’m glad the black girl
got a line in this episode

I’m glad the universe
isn’t about my people

Don’t you think this eclipse
lasted a little too long?

Number three and this should
definitely be number one:

Never get high
in the bedrooms of your friends

I just hope the ground doesn’t freeze up
before you clench that jawline of yours

Something cascading outside answers
frankly it’s a voice I don’t trust

You crying in a theater
You Rorschach of a face

Three apples on the counter
are touching at the hips

Lemme sit up in your half-moon
even if this isn’t what it’s all about

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