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surplus letters from the alphabet (for binyavanga)

in total i have eleven babies that i made from broken pipes &

they have been pacing around my room all night.

“where is he?”, asks the eldest-looking one.

we do not answer.

(the other ten have eyes that don’t blink)

the last time he saw me cry she plucked out my eyeballs with a chisel

(who thought of people with wooden eyes first?)

but i wanted to first tell you about the invention of the pinched nerve by gods who can’t do prose. (now i have a different idea).

but first—

will you teach me how to rewrite pain with these surplus letters from the alphabet?

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Neo Musangi

i like to think of myself as a stubborn non-human organism experiencing existential nightmares as though i were human. after numerous almost-failed attempts at long-form, i now call myself a poet (which i use as an excuse to be cynical about life).

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