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  • The American Poetry Review

    THREE POEMS

    May 01, 2022 2 minutes
    ELIZABETH A.I. POWELL

    Into the Mistake

    My solecisms spread like sumac
    trees, somber clouds
    at the perimeter, stalking.
    I walk

    the desire line of path with my bow
    and arrow, toward the straw filled boss, its bull’s-eye
    my third eye. The angels always ask me
    questions with no answers:

    What is

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