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TERRE DES HOMMES

by Gabriel Palacios

Whether your

misfirings Spread

fingers In a wasting

slick Red heat — 


Must it be Adjudicated

now? Close your eyes,

squeeze Off, the blowing

dust areas 


Have you hustling The

square Uneyeglassed stroll

To get your sweepstakes

letter 
 

Stone veiled virgin Fed

wadded up News

lacquered over

Post-traumatic

mermaid 
 

Crucified against The bow

of who brought you Here

You ebb 


With moon & bless a

slow arrival You can’t

punch for shit In a

dream 


Can’t spend four minutes in

that Closet without spending

Twenty-two Dollars just to feel 
Unrained on

Leak out Like a

sidewinder High- 
 

Beam blinded

On the

sawdust Just

to Feel unreal 


Of course they try to sell you

everything It’s a hospital Criss &

crosswise blood types, Births wheeled

to a light 


On the corridor’s point of

convergence In your own way You’ve

tattooed Some warranty agreement 


Between your eyes

alright One night you’ll

show A kind of captain

Your room key 


To get let on the

party-boat Empty out your

pockets Unprepared to

fade This one out 


In

jailslippers 
Can everyone

tell 

Gabriel Author Pic_edited.jpg

Gabriel Palacios lives and writes in Tucson, Arizona. His poems have recently appeared in The Volta, Typo Magazine, Territory Magazine, Pulpmouth, Contra Viento, Spoon River Poetry Review, Bayou Magazine, The Brooklyn Rail, and other journals. 

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