Postmodern Poetry - Xanax Pop by Lewis LaCook

I wish I was a coy nature poet
or immaterial. There are whispers

along the floodgates; slowly, the people
are forgetting how shapes go, and contort
without precision

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Posted by Lewis LaCook at 3:35 am | Postmodern Poetry | Permalink

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Postmodern, Post-Avant, Post-everything…Poetry after the deluge