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 Oct 2016 Corset
curlygirl
the hardest
part of
letting someone
you love
go is
making yourself
stay away
I wanted to shout
to jump about
To sing and dance
like a lady from France
I wanted to cry
My chest swelled with pride
I felt me saying goodbye
to the poets I knew that died

I felt the pain
of the pleas to refrain
The ache of love
The fickle dove
The reason to write
was all encapsulated
Bloodletting , begetting
I so was so related
Tribute to Relic's poem "And we call it poetry"
 Oct 2016 Corset
Kurt Philip Behm
I hate the ‘Body
Politic’

Whose wave blasphemes
and grows

I battle to swim against
its tide

Or be abandoned in the
flow

I hate the way it stunts
my voice

‘Old Dominions’ chosen
side

I hate the fact—it’s hate
I feel

With the truth a captive
lie

(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2016,
  Inspired By Neal Hall)
 Oct 2016 Corset
Doug Potter
I can not find the letter mother left me four days
before her death. I read it once and then placed

it in a cardboard box like you might a dull
knife or a ******* tin. The letter is

a part me, like Van Gogh’s severed
ear was to him. I want the letter

like love or sight; the way bone
                               needs marrow.
 Oct 2016 Corset
David Adamson
Dear David:

We are deeply gratified that you gave us the opportunity
to read your poems.  Notice that we say “opportunity”
rather than “submission,” for truly you graced us with works
of such enduring power, so sublime, so transcendent,
that our humble words scarce can adequately praise
the sacred privilege of reading them.

Seldom, no, never has human experience been so distilled,
so purified, so exalted, yet so exposed
in all its paradox, its shades and sunbursts,
shouts and silences, the hiding places redolent of inner light,
as in these timeless works.  

A calm breeze from the desert’s edge at dusk,
the chatter of a mockingbird at dawn,
the rumble and crash of a hidden waterfall,
the laughter of a child unseen in a cool wood’s shade,
emanate so intensely from the shapes of these letters
that our faith in the power of language to evoke reality
has been nourished and restored to its proper place.

However, we regret to inform you
that your poems do not meet our needs at this time,
which are for relevant poems for the upcoming
theme issue on Hammer Toes.

We hope you will consider us for future opportunities.

Sincerely,

The editors of ******* Quarterly
Have been collecting a lot of rejection letters lately.  Here's my interpretation.
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