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  You could have a big dipper   

Spliced by Thomas Zimmerman

Soft rain all afternoon, gray mist this evening.

Fresh mulch down. Vincente also trimmed

dead branches from the spruces. Weeding, nicked

the Wi-Fi cable: novice’s mistake.

We’ve got it spliced for now. So Ann’s on Zoom.

Trey’s comatose. Dishwasher churns typhoons

inside itself. The scotch half gone, I crank

Beethoven’s seventh string quartet. I pan

my word-hoard’s shallow stream for gold. I dream

I stuff my mouth with psychotropic leaves

but still can’t screw my rhythms to the sticking

place. God’s strangest gift’s been teaching us

that we don’t need Him. Sad muse whispers in

my ear, “You’ll knock ’em dead tomorrow, Champ.”


Thomas Zimmerman (he/him) teaches English, directs the Writing Center, and edits The Big Windows Review at Washtenaw Community College, in Ann Arbor, Michigan, USA. His poems have appeared recently in Live Nude Poems, Pink Plastic House, and Zero Readers. Tom's website: Twitter: @bwr_tom

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