Statement of Record

AuthorHannah Grady

Nine Poems by Hannah Grady

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The Fog   The fog came unpredictably as a gift (after the sticky sleep and awkward, stoic morning). I smelled toast but never saw it. The door closed and I cried a little in the bathtub.   Right, the fog - Hanging over the hole where the Nets will play someday, sliding down Dean Street as a happy hour pickleback might at half-time of Germany vs. Austria.   It came...

Statement of Record

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