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Bronwyn Valentine

In the tundra there are no pens + no writing back

Small Future

Humans commit to the tundra + inhabit the biome in a necessary way
We bring out our letter with worn edges + tire them further

Hello son or daughter says a human in the letter
Do we think of factories how are we in the tundra we run
warm don't worry too much about socks a lot of us is missed

Oh humans what letter what factories what warm what home what missing

In the tundra everything is seen + everything is the same
In the tundra there are no pens + no writing back

We lay the letter out on the icy sedge + practice our expansion
We believe in the carrying power of the human voice
in the far reaching capacity of the voice in so much flatness

We call out from the treeless permafrost open up the geyser scream wide
spew + spew across these many erosions

We are so alive!
We are mouthing this irrelevant glacier

Bronwyn Valentine is an MFA candidate at the University of Alabama and the editor of Black Warrior Review. Her work has appeared in ILK, Banango Street, Birdfeast, and Quarterly West. She lives in Tuscaloosa.