Today we are reading "Things Haunt," by Joshua Jennifer Espinoza. This poem is so striking in how it organically unfolds: the interjection of retrograde feels natural, and the way that moment is used to pivot the poem is great.
I want you to meditate on the things or labels that are ascribed to you. Maybe these identifiers aren't wrong, but they are not fully accurate, the don't quite fit. What are you like, but not quite?
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