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Mornings at Dad’s
This author is a recipient
of the Sigma Tau Delta Award
There is sawdust in the coffee
that always comes in dime-store mugs,
mugs bought after the divorce, the divorce
where he got the dog, the gray, cancerous dog
that lounges in my bed
with flannel sheets, flannel sheets
that are also full of sawdust
from the construction
of our lives, our lives
of dime-store mugs, and dogs with cancer, and coffee filled with sawdust.
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