Diaspora 63

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We wanted to construct a livable world
but the pieces didn’t fit. We wanted

the barely there and the no threat to my family.
Wanted the unaggrieved clothes of someone

who belonged. We wanted to fit under
the sweet tent by the sea. Wanted the open

screen door. There were flotillas of us, yes.
And each of us was a new acrobat

for the circus. We were jangly and beautiful,
yes. We knew the mountains had the good

questions. We knew the midway games
were rigged. We knew carnival barkers

raised the height of the hoop slightly so
the eye would never legislate incongruity.