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"untitled" issue
december 2002
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cheryl townsend
AT 40
I believed contentment
was a redder dye and gardening
I ignored my thighs and
missing buttons
I strained my eyes
on poetry and a camera lens
Let the messages
fill up my answering machine
and blamed it all on menopause
Even now
several years later
I have not learned from my mistakes
My yard is beautiful
My thighs are like unbaked bread
I wear glasses to write this
and no one bothers to call
BRUTE
As I lay in bed
against your nervous body
my breath slows
to a huff
beneath your
stupid strength
"Brute" first appeared in the November 2002 online version of The Hold.
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