The Top of Hell
That’s what it’s like to wake up and see your face each morning.
That’s what it’s like to wake up and see your face each morning.
For how many years have I kept up the lie, the story
of the middle-aged man in the cap and the gray
or possibly bluish sweatshirt
gaining on me in the night, wrenching
For our series Making of a Poem, Natalie Shapero talks about her issue no. 257 poem, “The Top of Hell.”
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