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The dream draws       dental mirrors          from a well


the earth will bear it    hammered metal          jeweled pins


rule to live by               if you look                    and look


it will appear to you         deliverance            


I put out traps        an ant carries          neurotoxin


back to the nest          he buys a gun safe weighs      


four hundred pounds        imagines       needing it


imagined pain              trains the real      speculative dreaming


leads to horses           lathered           thick as shaving cream


in brilliant colors          human forms         pitch them over walls


come night       lay down         in wood dust       the night is warm


people in the street are dressed         for dancing       


while I sleep    four hundred ants       cross the kitchen floor           


bearing death

Lia Mastropolo is writing from Philadelphia, where she is currently at work on her first chapbook. Her poetry has appeared in Salt Hill, Folio, decomP, Bird's Thumb, Full of Crow, and elsewhere. 

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