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the fertile crescent
rests between my legs
and in my third eye, infinity
and beyond
where the wild blue face of a schizophrenic god curses and spits fire
in the sixth grade, the history teacher tried to tell me his name
and I laughed because
he’s a she
and she’s a rock and roll bitch
in later years, Kali Ma whispered to me through the radio
to open my mouth and swallow the universe
swallow stupidity whole
even though nice girls don’t do that
goddesses never claimed to be nice
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