by Amy Holman
Dashes, circles, lines and an egg shape are all he is
in the milk froth not yet descended.
Suddenly, it's all too political. What is the etiquette
between your open mouth and his? Do you kiss
his holy caricature and swallow, or wait,
like China, for him to disappear?
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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