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Lia Yaranon Hall

I am a fake librarian, a real graduate student, a wannabe acrobat, fallen trapeze artist, aspiring yoga teacher, and bicycle fanatic dreaming about the lives inside and outside of New York City.  I am currently investigating the art of tea and trying to love everyone all at once. Although my mother often accused me of being hard headed, I still consider myself highly impressionable.  After watching a corny bike film, I got the idea to wash one of my bikes in the shower, which resulted in clogging my drain major New York grime accompanied by bleach-resistant black grease streaks on the white tile. I like this kind of contrast—it resembles words on a page.  I like to read and write too.

::02:16:08::

::: Exodus Genesis Exodus :::

Swallows ascend in plumes of smoke
their plumage grips smut
for no oil permits its resistance
they permeate nonesuch
from forth their suits no sweat
mere silt-colored sweaters

on the antennae when they meet
They make the sign of a t
then flee in the form of a flying v

the Tenant inside underneath
watches TV
does not see electricity does not
pay to view Sojourners’
Exodus Genesis Exodus

inside and under tenement rock
sensory membranes are battered lawn grass
to breathe here means to go blind
to adjust reception means to permit
transmission of pidgin language

no words just hunger no gestures
no songs but wings
mimicking the veins of the city
all that is leaving for far too many
not bombs but falling birds

it’s not You
rather how you will be
forgotten in beds of soil you turn
rich and rotten

every Sorry Thank you Please
erased of all our memories
anonymous feathers
formalities for stuffing our pillows
and we are all beaten cases
how we tried to find our fill
never meant by sense or will
for often said without a clue
what was meant by
how are you

Written by: ~ Lia Yaranon Hall

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