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cutlery flung
in a hospital's gym

Charles O'Melia

cutlery flung


crack-violent education,

writ red on six-year-old cheek-

stained mosaic blue-purple,

thrust strongarm


into cabinet, into wall, into

rust-red carpet. in-

herited angry fingers, cut-

lery flung; shout, child.

In a Hospital’s Gym


Behind inwardly-locked doors,

they let him shoot on a basket

that would not adjust above nine feet.


The awkwardness of his adolescent limbs

settled into grace;

the nurses watched,

and talked about their kids,

and their student loans.


He never considered missing.

Like he could almost remember

a younger, better, version of himself.

In a Newly-Bought House


The vacancy of it invited possibility.


Green, watery sunlight filtered in,

spilling the floor.

A chair, which we kept, was too small for a grown person,

and faced inwards.


We dripped words to each other.

The ours gathered us.

in a newly-bought house
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