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Here

May. 13, 2012
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All our handsome soldiers are dead
here, in this gray park where I must worry
about the single shoe I find in the middle of the field.
It is always raining.  I can feel the city swell
with an absence in its heaving
and the people look like lonely people
walking over lonely bridges even while sleeping
or sitting quietly at home. I become aware of myself.
I think of my head on a pike and everyone staring.
I find a truth, a mild delusion:  the wind blows around
the alley, a mysterious dog appears in the parkway –
What am I going to do someday staring off into the cold
distance and glancing my small room for ghosts?


Skyler Osborne, a student and poet at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee, is co-author of The Infinite All Right, a chapbook of poetry and prose.

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