Eleni Stecopoulos
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The Vestigial H
 
Hey philosophy, put some hair on your chest. 
Spit out the sound of your favorite character.
I can no longer find nihilist in my name 
and it makes me hill to think of it. 
After the great vowel shift comes 
the consonantal divide --
I am coeval. 
You there of the heavy eyelids, 
you face that torched a thousand ships, 
burn, baby, burn. 
All's grist for my hate
stylus of what face
lost her as aleph.
Erratum mutters mutterrecht. 
Daughters of my heart, hermetic definition. 
I hear the pitter paternoster of little feet and run like hell.


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