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Untitled 8

Coyote howls canyons into windows painted on the floor with crushed turquoise;

captured cranes secrete radon in the epoxied toolshed;

leopard spots, ripe for drilling, ooze white gas when hung on a copper wire.

I pull electricity from their softened bellies with loom yarn.

I map a shrinking map.

from Flood SongFind it in the library

Copyright © 2009 Sherwin Bitsui
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of Copper Canyon Press.

Published in Poems Sherwin Bitsui

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