[tabby title="Poet Bio"] They take pieces of usOff the tableCutting slicesNeedles insertedLike turkey breastOur blood drips like gravyOnto sharp blue sheetsWe lie thereUnconscious andGratefulTo be poked and proddedGrateful that it hurtsTo be aliveTo walk again underblue sky [tabby title="Poet Bio"]...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] The boy on the bikelooked back as he rodecrunching fall leaves underneathspinning wheels. He wobbled onceand I shoutedLook forward!but he didn’t hear mebecause my face was turnedinto my windowas I drove forwardwhile looking back. I ran over...