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This poem is taken from PN Review 173, Volume 33 Number 3, January - February 2007.

Four Poems Owen Gallagher

The Personal Column

To have the seed, the bristle, the arms.
Share in all that comes, remain intact.

To cart the world. Build an ark
out of words. A place to bask.

Someone not parched or starched.
A camp-fire. A heart uncharred.

I Like to Undress You by Phone

I like to undress you by phone,
hear your lips part, your tongue draw moisture.

Feel your mind as each garment slips,
thuds to the floor.

I like to feel you reach over continents,
prompt a climate change.

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