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  You could have a big dipper   

berkshires by Bear Weaver

CW: Cancer

for hallie

we two plow the fresh relics / of our bodies /

through the cornfield / pitch our anguished /

living histories / into the river / and deliver a

cannabis / invocation / sure / a river’s just a

place to lie naked / in your pocket in the sun /

until it’s a source of / manifestation / the

current a summer spell / every sailing leaf a

holy entity / every light eruption / of the skin /

an affirmation / that there is nothing / the body

can’t heal / that there is nothing / the carers

who abandon you know / that ancient wisdom

hasn’t trawled / a cosmic creature aflutter with

/ one hundred trillion / gut flora / an ecology

as big as our / barred spiral galaxy if / you

zoom in close enough / a body’s just a body

unless / like everything else / that’s a lie /

unless its birth is a big bang / unless our

mothers lit for us / one hundred trillion lights /

to call those biome-dwellers home / the river

stuns the body / until the body claims it / a

joint / is just a joint / until it isn’t


Bear Weaver was built by Florida’s Gulf Coast, as were their parents, grandparents, great-grandparents, and great-great-grandparents. Bear is a poet and photographer currently residing and cancer-surviving in southern New England, but can be found tweeting @WvrBear.

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