This won't end well. These poems are an exploration of the fraught relationship between our fragile, complex human bodies and our time in the world. "The landscape, the grid, the clock" rules us all. On some level we understand this essential truth but continue to insist we are "in the middle of things". Each of us must learn this difficult lesson: we cannot change the past, and we must move forward. However, our ability to love, to make ourselves available to each other - sometimes in ways we never imagined - can help us discover new relationships with beginnings and endings, with our bodies, with the world. If not now, when?
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Poetry