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Colleen Tighe is an illustrator, cartoonist, and usually the very loud, grumpy person in the back of the room. She is too stubborn to give up on a socialist future.
Carl is a bipolar orthopedic podiatrist, and he’s fussy at the nipple. He’s been on a nursing strike for the past several days,. . .
As “a stone in love” with falling, “I wound the water’s face”
Then wear the mask of water all the way. . .
From the kitchens where the gas is kept / beloved are the blues shining my shoulder / old potholes . . .
Of twinks and the men who love to exploit them.
While labor leaders drag their feet about police unions, members demand radical change.
Notes on the end of funerals.