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Jimmy Broccoli
Nov 5, 2020
Broken God
His unshaven posture weakens He wilts into my arms as if we’re dancing A delicate dandelion stem exposed to hurricanes A falling toaster...


Jimmy Broccoli
Nov 4, 2020
Mother
My mother cleans when she’s sad Our tables have no dust The windows have no streaks The carpet, step lightly, there must be no ware Tears...


Jimmy Broccoli
Oct 29, 2020
Him
You fell asleep gently, my love I covered you before the ambulance arrived They took me away, too Because I couldn’t stop screaming...
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