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Jordan Stempleman

The Resurfacing of Edgar Rice Burroughs


I used to be one who stood between love
and its consummation.
In the last outhouse there’s a drawing of a Martian
battleship that is depicted correctly by being covered
in yellow feathers, but inauthentic
in that it only has one enormous wing.
I murmur my oath to myself in this outhouse.
I am loyal to only one kind of destruction per day.
I will protect and possibly violate only one person per day.
I will shelter my dim green bulk in the uppermost minds
of my fellow dim green comrades.
I must never speak to reciprocate.