Two Poems



Sara Wintz

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Strange, when she,
Everyone: “Their hair,
their faces, their hands, their arms,
their necks: all luminous.”
“Their dresses, their underclothes,
even the corsets of the dial painters
were luminous.” “One showed luminous spots.”
“Another was luminous almost to the waist!”
 
 
 
 
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I’m busy,
always on the move,
up early in the morning,
late to bed at night.

 
children take turns,
One does homework:
“My vocabulary grows a gardens!”
“I learned new ones: ’10 billion,’
“2.5 trillion” new ones!”
 
“I look forward to retiring when I am 95…
and I felt for her deep within my hard drive.
my father boards an airplane after having worked
a dark and stormy night.”
 
What I do that is for him, my consideration:
I vex und begrudge, Paper.
“OU...!”
 
Seeing her body glow in the mirror:
“so, things will get better…!”
 
It provoked the ‘martyrs’ of science to wonder.
 
“When really, I jump after dark,”
she said, “I” “stray”.