Sybil Kollar



while we tremble
in movie houses,
our fingers laced
squinting at
the screen,
the post office fills
with menacing letters,
neon lighting
drips sepia
and the gunmen
in disarray
their weapons
waxy and loose
—all the while
they're on their bellies
without the advantage
of brush
their faces flickering
under moonlight
as the culprits
of dead things

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