Double Poem by Rae Armantrout

Double



So these are the hills of home. Hazy tiers
nearly subliminal. To see them is to see
double, hear bad puns delivered with a wink.
An untoward familiarity.

Rising from my sleep, the road is more
and less the road. Around that bend are pale
houses, pairs of junipers. Then to look
reveals no more.

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Rae Armantrout

Rae Armantrout

Vallejo, California / United States
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