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Jack Kristiansen
Blooming
after Paul Klee’s Strange Garden (1923)
bits of dirt
still on her bare knees
she’s huffed inside
to gripe to the cats
that her mother
has called her
“exasperating”
when all she did
was break the necks
of those two marigolds
who’d made faces at her
and of that zinnia bud
who’d dared to wink
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