It Is, Indeed, Reminiscent of the Real Thing   Higher in whole armor I come. And soon he’ll get his updo and soon my metallsucher will have his magnets.   A benefice a bob a brig of ingrown pruned roses, the place a tiny statue with its tiny mewing mouths in Christana in a hangover in a state of skogar loneliness.   I’ve consumed … Continue reading Two Poems by Jessica Comola