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Emily M. Trask

TO THE PERSON(S) WHO STOLE MY BICYCLE

 

Has the green already gone from the basil leaves?

 

too

quickly.

 

Something rode in on the neck of night,

sucked them brown, puckered their edges to paper-burnt.

Something made them sun-sick.

Sick of me.

 

Thievery licked his lips

and then,

            preying mantis,

Stole all the wheels off the world.

Plucked the turning tickle of sleep

from behind my corneal spokes

and, laughing,

wide-jawed,

he feasted on rubber herbs

deep inside

an immobile earth.

About the Writer

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         Emily M. Trask is a poet and theatre artist with Canadian and Wisconsin roots (father from Orillia, Ontario and mother from a small town on Lake Michigan).  Her poetry has been featured in Common Ground Review, Fogged Clarity, Summerset Review, and Burning Word Literary Journal. Her essays, scholarly commentary and award winning play adaptations have been published by the Folger Library, Simon and Schuster and others. As an actress, she has appeared on stage and screen across the country, including NYC’s prestigious Lincoln Center Theatre.  Emily currently lives in Philadelphia, PA with her husband and their toothless cat, Ramona Salami.

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trask bicycle
trask bio

Contents

Caroline Plasket

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-- Sometimes My Mother is a Child

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-- Beaded

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Naomi Ruth Lowinsky

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-- YOUR NATURE AND MINE

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Kim Trainor

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From BLUEGRASS: GHAZALS

-- 57.

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-- 27.

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-- 31.

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Charles Kell

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-- Entropy

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Sean Howard

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-- shadowgraph 129: the behavior of the deep

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-- grace notes (jazz triptych)

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Mary Taugher

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-- Padre Pio

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Kelsey Robbins Lauder

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-- Windward

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Sandra Maxson

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-- Vegas

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Artwork

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Prose

Reviews

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