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A cracked straw instead of the
commemorative cup
A rash where the
bandage was stuck
Scrapbooks filled with electrode stickers
and parking garage receipts
Emptied plastic sleeves whose cookies
were reduced to crumbs
and whose taste my tongue has forgotten
The pulsing cacophony of
machine rhythms
keeps vibrating in my brain
long after the
connections are severed
You Ask a Lot of Questions 