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boundby edition #002 is lost in the noise, moving to the rhythm, hypnotised by the pull of habit and repetition. Here, there’s work to be done, small instances of cyclicity to be accounted for, avenues worth rabbiting down, fire exits to burst through.
featured
poem
Shedding
and one other poem by Erin Emily Ann Vance
On our first day home we sleep until noon and
roast a chicken in a bag from Lidl. We drive down thin
wisps of roads to the Earl’s Palace— to Euphemia’s house.
Standing in the ruin in the rain I feel a pinch
—the first dig of the palette knife
ready to rip the paper from the walls.
…
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