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picnic materials

Steven Lazarov

 

two blankets

 

books to read aloud

 

basket

 

   forks/knives/spoons/linens

 

   cutting board & bread & cheese

 

   & jams & picklings & peach pie

 

   the last heirlooms of fall

 

   the apples, Cox’s Orange Pippin

 

   The sticky honey mustard

 

   i think there’s still a thick slab to saltlove

 

   Montréal pastrami in my mouth!

 

   my hand shakes my whole body

 

   at once standing—we in the shy

 

   marigold dawn push

 

   push together closer & further

 

   than what we had thought

 

   in thought was physically

 

   possible—my whole hand

 

   blooms at the center of 

 

   inside—being of your being’s

 

   being—being our being’s being

 

   & going, wet & picking up speed

in the womb of the old

 

 

Steven Lazarov lives in Chicago. He'll usually take the pancakes instead of the toast. His poems have come up in Dream Pop Press, Waccamaw, Paragon Journal, & Sheriff Nottingham.