Current Issue About Editorial Note Archives Submitting Links		Peter Schwartz 9 lines towards the next time There is a thin line of momentum that runs through everything. On my good days I try to hop it like a boxcar, on my bad days I simply watch it pass. This is the gambling that lives in all of us, call it human brokerage. And my heart is a very, very delicate vault. Withdrawals and deposits disturb my momentum. I suffer these undying symptoms; they keep me running from the places I've slept. Next Poem
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