“On Picking Up a Whiff of Gas from the Utility Room” by John Minczeski

A poem by alum John Minczeski (poetry, ’90) appears at Shadowgraph Quarterly:

It was like the distant harps of angels,
A filtrate of furnace and towels
I’d used to wipe up the dog’s manifest
Destiny. It was a flag,
A minor rearrangement of molecules.

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