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	<title>Conflictus Review &#187; Pia Taavila</title>
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	<description>Publishing Expression About Conflict</description>
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  <title>Conflictus Review</title>
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		<item>
		<title>Hesitation &#8211; Pia Taavila</title>
		<link>http://conflictusreview.com/2010/04/11/hesitation-pia-taavila/</link>
		<comments>http://conflictusreview.com/2010/04/11/hesitation-pia-taavila/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 11 Apr 2010 19:09:37 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>colbyproffitt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pia Taavila]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[See that man, standing in the garden? How long will he linger, hands in his pockets, lips pursed, as if to sing? The lark beats him to it as he gazes, horizons beyond his meager grasp. While he pauses, bones and thoughts calcify though purple irises beat their heads against his wastrel thighs. Pluck the [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>See that man, standing in the garden?<br />
<BR><br />
How long will he linger,<br />
hands in his pockets,<br />
lips pursed, as if to sing?<br />
<BR><br />
The lark beats him to it<br />
as he gazes, horizons<br />
beyond his meager grasp.<br />
<BR><br />
While he pauses, bones<br />
and thoughts calcify<br />
though purple irises beat their heads<br />
against his wastrel thighs.<br />
<BR><br />
Pluck the roses while in bloom:<br />
morning is the time.</p>
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		<title>Hovering &#8211; Pia Taavila</title>
		<link>http://conflictusreview.com/2010/04/11/hovering-pia-taavila/</link>
		<comments>http://conflictusreview.com/2010/04/11/hovering-pia-taavila/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 11 Apr 2010 19:07:41 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>colbyproffitt</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Pia Taavila]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[Son with the acid-laced pupils, what hollow thing eats at you? Is your mind/body meandering nothing more than youthful gaming? Or does death knock at your ribcage, its filthy fingers picking at your mortar? Stand down from these heights before the quicksand covers you over and I can no longer cup your fleeting pulse.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Son with the acid-laced pupils,</p>
<p>what hollow thing eats at you?</p>
<p>Is your mind/body meandering</p>
<p>nothing more than youthful gaming?</p>
<p>Or does death knock at your ribcage,</p>
<p>its filthy fingers picking at your mortar?</p>
<p>Stand down from these heights</p>
<p>before the quicksand covers you over</p>
<p>and I can no longer cup your fleeting pulse.</p>
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