Author: George Kalamaras
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LAMBING by George Kalamaras
Time was too long each winter. Each spring death clung to our tongue. Just below it milled failure and success: lambing seasons that arrived to survive, the job that finally paid, the art of making love even when we felt less than whole…
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LETTER TO PHIL FROM MANITOU SPRINGS by George Kalamaras
Did Darwin name the world, or did you, Phil, in creating him for us? I swear a Galápagos tortoise inhabits my sleep. A dream broth. A cup of Genmaicha tea containing roasted grains of brown rice. It lays its eggs across the coral reef of my brain. Blonde. Blind. Without fish-mouth or salt.