Ode from the Commode: A Thanksgiving Plea

To Whom It May Concern: I write to you with the fervent hopethat my plight may soon be known.My ordeal began as soon as I plunkedmy ass on the porcelain throne. It seems mixing shots of tequilawith gravy-smothered pitawas clearly not the way to go. Hence, my ass exploded,the tidy bowl overloaded,and the septic tank …

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Sequoia

I dreamed of shadows and sheltered things beneath the tree with golden leaves. Today the mighty trunk sliced bare as bone, the rings rough and splintered, you take my hand as we count the lives together. A thousand deaths, a thousand loves, a thousand circles bound us with frayed fibers, spinning its thread, the splinters …

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