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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 8, Number 2, June 2014

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Genie Nakano
Hawthorne, California, USA


Urbania

Running through wheat fields and skipping stones across the river are not my childhood memories. My turf is a concrete city project playground filled with chain linked fences and swings. Where I fall in love with the boy next door and beat up the boy down the block. Boy crazy is what my mom called me.

I steal my mother’s Maxfactor red lipstick in the first grade. When I’m ten—I’m fifteen and when I’m fifteen I’m twenty one. My imagination grows as big and wild as a jungle. A broomstick is my palomino pony and I can lasso mars.

Urban living—it’s not so bad. At night when all the smog settles—the moon shines as bright as a silver bell.

coyote
hollers to the moon
I am here

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