by Amy Holman
Maybe he suffered from killer migraines. Maybe
his neck itched. Maybe he had body issues.
Maybe he was guilty over being the executioner
in a past life. Maybe 41 is not the new 31. Maybe
it was mind over matter.
Amy Holman has been playing around with current news and/or headlines for a couple of years, here and there, including publications in Failbetter, Archaeology (online), Unpleasant Event Schedule, Rattapallax, Shade, and soon, on the Red Morning Press web site. She is the author of Wait For Me, I'm Gone, which won the 2004 Dream Horse Press annual chapbook prize. She writes poetry, fiction and nonfiction and work freelance as a Literary Consultant out of her tiny apartment in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn.
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